


I Will Never Forget You

by Lurkinginthecorner



Series: I Loved You All Along [2]
Category: Hunger Games (2012) RPF, Josh Hutcherson - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, jennifer lawrence - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, and jennifer and nick, but nothing explicitly described, josh and claudia, not tagging the relationships but there will be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkinginthecorner/pseuds/Lurkinginthecorner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jennifer and Josh both try to deal in their own way with the consequences of Josh’s initial decision to put a definitive end to their unhealthy relationship. As Jennifer vows to do whatever it takes to gain Josh’s trust back, unknowingly to her, Josh embarks on a path of misunderstandings and self-destruction until they find the courage to address the issues keeping them from enjoying the deep love and connection they’ve felt for each other - forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the sequel of "I Loved You All Along". A couple of warnings before you dive in:  
> 1) I gave it away in the tags, but the story will eventually involve Josh dating Claudia and Jen dating Nick again, like in real life. Bear with me, there'll be nothing graphically described between them, and JOSHIFER IS ENDGAME. This is a Jen/Josh story.  
> 2) I apologize in advance if some of the characterizations upset you (probably more in the next chapters than this one, though). I'm not implying any of this is real. This is fiction.

**Jennifer’s POV**

The phone rings. Once, twice, three times in a row, I don’t know. I’m not paying attention.

I only seem to focus on his words playing on repeat in my head.

“ _We need to go back to being friends...I’ll always be there...I love you... If we’re meant to be, then it’ll happen at the right time.”_

How many days have passed since we came back from Hawaii and he walked out of my life, I don’t know. I’ve stopped counting. I’ve been consumed by pain and regret ever since he left my house.

In a corner of my mind, I know that I’ll need to get ready soon to leave for Boston to film that damn movie with David. That movie I shouldn’t ever have agreed to star in. Maybe if I’d refused, I could have spent a vacation with him and he’d have changed his mind. Realized that I was finally ready to commit myself to him fully. That he meant so much to me, he couldn’t possibly think I’d be better off without him.

But instead, he insisted to leave for Panama earlier than what he was supposed to, making sure to put distance between us as soon as possible.

And now, I’m left all alone to grieve our relationship.

I jump out of my thoughts when a buzzing sound breaks the peaceful silence of the house. At first, I stay there, huddled on my couch with my face hidden in my knees, but as the noise gets insistent, I finally get up and stagger to the intercom. I push the button, clear my throat and speak in a raw voice.

“Who’s there?”

“Jen, it’s me, Justine,” a sweet, feminine voice says. “Please open the gate.”

I look down. The last thing I want is to see people. I don’t want to talk.

But I know she won’t let go. So I reluctantly push the button to unlock the gate, watch her get inside, and lock it back. I walk to the door slowly, and as soon as I hear her steps on the other side, I open up, letting her walk in behind me as I make my way back to my couch, without giving her another look.

“Jen... what happened?” she asks, quickly following me to the living room. “I’ve been trying to reach you for the past week, but you never answer your phone... what’s wrong?”

I shake my head and hide my face in my knees, so she can’t see the rush of fresh tears pouring out of my eyes. Has it already been a week? I don’t know. I feel like he just walked out, his sad eyes locked on mine until the very last moment. I still feel the sensation of his soft lips caressing mine for the very last time. I recall the warm tears he poured with me.

“Is it Josh?” she adds, kneeling in front of me and running her hand on my arm.

I finally find the strength to nod slightly. I hear her take a deep breath as if she was very upset, and I glance at her face. Yes, she’s angry.

“The fucking bast-“

“Stop,” I interrupt her. “It was as hard for him as it was for me, okay? Maybe even harder. And as much as it hurts...” I pause to heave a sigh. “Deep down, I know we needed that. Our relationship wasn’t healthy. We both made mistakes. Me, especially.”

I can’t hide a sarcastic smile.

“Everyone around me was trying to warn me. But I didn’t listen. So I lost him.” My eyes get full of tears that I nonchalantly wipe away before looking at her. “But he didn’t shut the door completely, you know? He wants us to stay friends, to start over again basically. So there’s still hope.”

Her angry face quickly turns into a small smile.

“You won’t give up. You really love him, don’t you?”

“I do! I’m so pissed at myself that it took me so long to figure it out! He deserved so much better...” I start sobbing again. “He deserved someone who was willing to love him fully, openly... and I just couldn’t offer him that. I can’t overshadow him, you know? I don’t want to get in the way of his dreams. But at the same time... it’s selfish I know... but I want him for myself, you know?”

She nods, stands up and sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me into her side.

“I miss him so much, Ju, you have no idea.”

“Oh, Jen...” she whispers. “You have to give yourself some time. It will hurt at first, but maybe you’ll move on.”

“But that’s the thing,” I exclaim, “I don’t want to move on! I don’t want to forget him. I want to make him see that we can make this work. I was ready when he decided it was over. I want... I just want him.”

“You still have to grieve that romantic relationship for now. Maybe it will work again someday, but in the meantime... you’ll have to learn to go on without him. Or not, if you’re ready to go back to being just friends right now.”

I let her words sink in. I hadn’t thought about focusing on rebuilding our friendship first. It makes sense. Knowing he’s still present in my life, even in that limited way, is enough to make me hopeful for the future.

“I think I am,” I reply in a soft voice.

“I think you should get your life back in order first,” she points out. “How long since you’ve showered last?”

I look down in shame,

“I don’t know. Couple days, maybe.”

She shakes her head sadly.

“How long since you’ve had a proper meal? And by that I don’t mean a bag of Cheetos with Pop Rocks as dessert.”

“I don’t know either,” I mumble, picking at the fabric of my sweatpants.

She sighs.

“Okay. I give you 15 minutes to shower and then we’ll go out. You need some fresh air to clear your mind and start anew. Come on.”

She pulls me off the couch and I finally stand up. She’s right, I need to get control over my life first if I want to do anything productive. I need to focus on getting what I want instead of wallowing in self-misery like I’ve been doing for the past week.

With that newfound resolve, I make my way to the bathroom to finally take the time to really scrub my body from all the sadness and desperation that has accumulated over the last week. I’m ready to make it work.

 

* * *

 

 

Justine was totally right. Getting out of the house, feeling the sun warm my skin, breathing in some fresh air does wonders for my state of mind. And I find it easier to get my appetite back with someone sharing the meal with me rather than being huddled all alone in my house.

After that, she helps me pack my luggage for the trip to Boston. We don’t talk about Josh anymore. I try not to think about him. It works, most of the time.

And when it doesn’t, and I stop in the middle of folding a shirt to look away sadly, she’s quick to notice my melancholia and snap me out of it with a well-placed joke, or remind me that he still wants to be my friend.

That I’ve chosen to fight, if not for his love, then for his friendship.

We’re done in no time, as I’ve been basically living out of my suitcases for months anyway; most of my things were already packed. Dread invades me when I realize that I’m done, that Justine is about to leave, and that I’ll find myself alone with my anxiety once again very soon. I try to take deep breaths to calm down. Justine, always the observant one, notices my distress and opens her arms to me for a reassuring hug.

“Hey,” she whispers, rubbing my back with her hand, “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll be there with you. You can call me anytime if you need to talk. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone to deal with all of this, okay? I don’t want you to cut yourself off anymore.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say resolutely, pulling away to stare at her concerned eyes. “As soon as I’ll get my mind on work, I’m sure I’ll be fine. You know...” I bite my lip. “I’ve really regretted saying yes to David after Josh told me he was supposed to have some free time before leaving for Panama... but with the way things turned out, it’s for the best that I gave up my vacation.”

“You sure?”

I give her a strong nod in response.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

On my first night in Boston, I’m happy to have dinner with Bradley, whom I haven’t seen since the night of the Oscars. I’m still thinking about Josh a great deal, but I find it easier to forget what happened when I find myself surrounded by people. Maybe I should have done that from the beginning. I wouldn’t have spent the week being miserable at home.

My only week off between both shoots, and I spent it on my couch crying myself to sleep.

But it’s over now. I’m trying my best to hide the last remnants of my downhearted state from last week. I think it works, until the few glasses of wine I’ve had start to kick in and make me sadder and sadder. Bradley obviously realizes I’m not as bubbly as usual, because he interrupts his monologue about his latest beard – a model even younger than me – to turn the conversation back to me.

“What’s up, Jen?” he asks with a concerned look.

I shrug, before figuring out that I should just get it out of my chest so he doesn’t push the question further. I know how he is: if I don’t reveal what’s on my mind soon, he’ll bug me with it till the end of the shoot.

“Josh kinda broke up with me,” I finally let out, closing my eyes to swallow back my tears.

“No way. I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Thank you.” I look up at him and take in his compassionate eyes. I’ve always been at ease telling him everything. I’m glad to have him here with me. “I messed up.”

“How could you? You’re too hard on yourself, Jen.”

“No, it’s true.” I swallow a gulp of wine to distract myself. “I took too long to make up my mind about Nick. I was scared of committing to the relationship. And... he thought I needed to take time on my own to move on from Nick properly.”

“You know, he’s pretty wise for a 20-year-old,” he remarks with a warm smile. “Definitely wiser than I am right now.”

“Maybe. But he didn’t know I was over Nick when he took that decision, you know? We could have been on the same page. I really felt ready. And now... I knew I would miss him when we’d be away, but... I miss him on a whole different level, you know?”

His mouth curls into a bright smile.

“You really love him. It was obvious every time you’d talk about him this winter. You get all giddy, your eyes light up. I’m surprised you didn’t make it official sooner.”

“What can I say?” I grimace. “I’m a fucking coward.”

He shakes his head.

“No, you’re not.”

“I only thought about myself, all this time,” I realize with a heavy heart. “I got confused over my feelings, kept a door open for Nick to crawl back into my life, kept Josh at arms’ length despite acting like a girlfriend with him in private.”

I look down in shame as I realize the message I’ve been sending him – without meaning it, of course. That not only isn’t he good enough to be allowed to be my boyfriend in public, he’s also not good enough for me to consider him my boyfriend, period. Which is far from the truth, obviously. But with all the mixed signals I was sending him, he couldn’t possibly know.

“No wonder he’s had enough. It’s surprising he didn’t dump my stupid ass a lot sooner.”

I suddenly recall his weird behavior the first time we went shooting in Hawaii – how emotional he was when we made love that last night, and how it bugged the hell out of me for weeks afterwards because I just couldn’t understand why he would act so desperate – and then it all clicks.

“He wanted to do it,” I say slowly, clasping my hand around my napkin. “When we came back from Hawaii the first time... and I was too dumb to figure it out... instead I kept toying with his feelings for two more months!”

Bradley shakes his head quickly.

“Jen... you really looked happy last month. Sick as hell, but still happy.”

“But I guess he wasn’t,” I whisper.

“You don’t know that. I bet he was. You should talk to him, you know. If you want to keep him as your friend anyway. Have you kept any sort of contact with him since he left?”

“No.”

“Then you know what you’ve got to do. I bet one of the things you got wrong the first time around is communication. Happens all the time. Don’t make that mistake again.”

I nod slowly.

“Yeah, you’re right. That’s good advice.”

“Hey, I may not be as wise as him, but I can still give good advice!”

I answer him with a scowl.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, I can’t stop staring at my computer screen, my body completely frozen in place. I’ve logged on Skype, and I really want to call Josh, but there’s something holding me back. I’m petrified.

After all, he hasn’t made any effort to reach out to me either. Maybe he wants space to move on from me. He did say he wouldn’t be able to forget me so easily. Maybe he’s figured out what he needed and decided to put his own needs first, for once. And let me reflect on what I did wrong for all these months together.

I grab my phone and quickly find his name in my contacts. I stare at his very last message, the one asking me to open the gate to the rental complex. I want to send him a message, tell him I’m sorry for all the hurt I caused him during all those months.

I want to tell him I miss him deeply. I want to see his words, imagine his smile, remember the glint in his eyes.

But I still can’t bring myself to type anything. What if he’s met someone else? What if he finds it too early to begin to build our new friendship?

I sigh and look away from the phone, before lighting it back up and wandering in the photo gallery. I know I’m torturing myself. I know it can only increase the pain I feel in my stomach when I think about him. But I need hope. I need to see my friend. I need to catch a glimpse of the man I love.

I miss him so much.

As I go through the pictures from the _Catching Fire_ shoot, my eyes get watery. I see Josh having makeup applied to his handsome face, his joyful expressions between shots, his loving gaze at parties, his smitten eyes on a selfie next to me. We were so happy. How could I mess up so badly?

Reluctantly, I put the phone down on my bedside table and take my face in my hands. I breathe in deeply, rub my temples, and stare at the phone for a while, hoping that he’ll make the first step.

But unsurprisingly, he doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

David’s enthusiasm for his new project quickly rubs on me. I lose myself so completely in my work, I barely have time to think about anything other than how Rosalyn – my character – would feel in a particular scene or what mannerisms she’d use in a specific situation. The days are stretching from before sunrise till a little after sunset, but they never feel long.

And when I make my way back to my hotel room, I’m so exhausted that I don’t think about doing anything other than have a good meal, shower all the sweat and makeup from the day, and fall into a deep slumber until the next morning.

Days pass. Weeks, even. Justine, who’s still working as my personal assistant on set, tells me she’s worried that I’m diving so deeply in my work, but I reassure her quickly. It’s for the best. I know she wants to bring up the subject of him, but I don’t let her. I haven’t stopped to really think about him in a while, ever since that night I couldn’t bring myself to call him, and it’s better that way. He needs space, and for once, I’ll think about him instead of being selfish and making it all about me.

It all goes well until one day, my scenes wrap earlier than usual and I’m forced to go back to the hotel in the middle of the afternoon. I think of asking Justine to stay with me, so I’m not alone with my thoughts, but in the end, I decide to let her take her rest, as she looks a lot more exhausted than I am.

And so I find myself staring at my laptop once again, the Skype window daring me to send an invite to him. It’s been a whole month now since we last spoke to each other.

And even though I’m trying hard to deny it, the truth is that it still stings like the first day.

As my eyes are locked on his name, I slide the cursor on it and click. His icon picture is smiling back at me, and I feel a pang of guilt at the thought of all the pain he’s gone through because of me.

But then I remember my conversation with Justine, how I was adamant I would get his friendship back, and I think I’ve sulked enough. I take a deep breath and send the video chat request. I have nothing to lose.

My heart starts beating faster as I wait for him to respond. Maybe I should have sent him a text before.

But then, I’m graced with the most beautiful sight I’ve had since I came back from Hawaii.

His smiling face staring back at me.

“Hi, Jen,” he says, his voice strong.

“Hi, Josh,” I reply in a low voice, hiding my mouth with my hand as I fight the tears filling my eyes. “It’s been a while.”

“It has. How are you?”

It takes me a moment to answer. I’m mesmerized by the sparkle of the webcam light reflecting in his stunning eyes, the sincerity in his crooked grin, the handsomeness of his whole face. I take him in. He looks fine, in much better shape than me.

Maybe he’s already met some girls over there to forget me.

“I’m fine,” I say, cringing internally as I know very well that it’s not true, but I can’t possibly tell him that. “I’m working hard, but it’s really satisfying. I don’t regret taking on the project.”

He smiles wider. I realize I long for him so badly. I wish I could touch him, smell him, feel the smoothness of the skin of his hand and the scratchy patch of stubble along the side of his jaw. He’s so gorgeous with the little tan he got since he’s gotten there.

“That’s great,” he says, nodding slightly. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. How is Panama?”

“It’s good. Very hot, but I’m not gonna complain.”

I’m dying to ask him if he’s met new people, but I know now is not the time.

“Was there a specific reason you wanted to talk to me?” he asks, making my heart shatter in my chest. He thinks I need a reason to talk to him now. I can’t possibly just want to hear his voice, see his face, feel his presence even thousands of miles away.

“I just wanted to see you. I miss you a lot, Josh.”

“I miss you too.”

He’s silent for a while.

“How have you been these last few weeks? For real?”

I bite my lip.

“Jen?”

“A mess.”

I look down and hide my face in my hands.

“What do you mean?”

I swallow thickly. I shouldn’t say this. I know that. But I can’t help myself.

“I mean that... I stayed on my couch for a week after you left. Barely ate, showered, talked. And now I’ve been losing my mind over work. I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” he whispers with his softest voice, the one that still makes my insides twist. “I didn’t want it to go that way. I thought... I thought you would surround yourself with people, forget me for a while. It’s better that way in the long run.”

“I know. But I also know that I need you in my life. You’ve been my best friend ever since I met you, Josh. The truth is that I don’t know how to deal with all this circus without you. I miss everything about you... but most of all I miss your friendship. I need you.”

“I miss you too. I never meant to destroy our friendship either. I think it’s salvageable, don’t you think?”

I chance a glance at the screen. He’s looking at the camera with that candid look of his, that adorable face that makes me melt every time. And so I gladly accept what he’s offering me.

“I think so too.”

“Great. Now I want you to promise me one thing. Whenever you’re upset, talk to somebody. It can be me, it can be Justine, it can be anybody, but don’t keep it for yourself, okay?”

I nod.

“Promise, Jen.”

“I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Josh’s POV**

Getting used to living far away from Jennifer turned out to be a little easier than I thought it would be, especially after I left her house in tears, knowing that I’d just broken her heart – and mine too.

But we needed it, and I think she acknowledged it.

I just didn’t anticipate how awkward it would be to build our friendship back from the beginning. I flew away to Panama as soon as I could to kill off any temptation of running back to her, but I was still dying to find a way to get in touch with her again.

The whole month it took, while I mostly did preparation work for the movie, I kept praying she would make the first step. Which was dumb, since I was the one who decided our romantic relationship was over. After the pain I had caused her, I couldn’t expect her to want anything to do with me anymore.

But for some reason, she did. And after that call, a few days ago, I felt more at ease to start texting her again, and I already look forward to our next Skype rendezvous.

It’s almost as good as seeing her for real.

Today, I’ll be meeting up again with the girl who will play my love interest in the movie. I’ve met her briefly once, when she walked in for a chemistry read in LA back in February. I vaguely recall her huge smile, dark look, soft brown hair. I don’t know much about her, except that her name is Claudia, she’s pretty, she comes from Spain, and her English is pretty good for a foreigner.

Back then, we had made polite conversation, nothing more. It was a very professional meeting. But now, I’m waiting for her in a Panama City coffee shop so we can get to know each other on a more personal level, building a deeper connection so that our chemistry as on-screen lovers appears more genuine.

I order my coffee, pick it up and choose a small table to sit by the window. After a few minutes of staring absent-mindedly at the people strolling down the sidewalk, I finally spot her walk around the corner and enter the coffee shop. Her long hair is hanging loose, flowing down past her shoulders. The tight-fitting black tank-top she’s wearing highlights her curvy chest, while her short denim skirt shows off her thighs. I can’t help but eye her up and down as she makes her way to the counter to order her own drink. I barely understand what she says, but I don’t really focus on her words anyway. I only hear the soft melody of her voice, before I shake myself back to reality.

No wonder she won the chemistry read with me, she’s totally my type.

While the barista prepares her coffee, she scans the shop, obviously looking for me. When her eyes finally lock with my own and I wave to her discreetly, her grin gets wider and I find myself returning it in earnest. Yeah, she’s pretty cute when she smiles.

But then my smile fades as Jen’s lovely face pops up in my head. I can’t help it. The more I want to forget her, the more she seems to crawl inside my mind, haunting me every time I take a step to try and move on from her.

I’m thrown out of my thoughts when Claudia makes her way to me, sets her cup on the table and bends down so I can kiss her cheeks. She sits in front of me, still gazing at me with the same nice smile.

“So,” she says, taking a careful sip of her coffee. “Josh... how are you?”

“I’m good,” I say. I’m definitely not ready to open up to her about my personal troubles. “The country’s nice.”

“Yeah. It is.”

I put my attention back on my drink to hide my discomfort. She doesn’t appear much more at ease than I am with making small talk. It’s quite surprising that I can’t seem to have a simple conversation with her now, though. I’m known to be the talkative one, the one who makes new people comfortable in a new circle of friends, just like I did on the _Catching Fire_ set with the new cast members. So why am I feeling so awkward here? I have no idea.

Thankfully, she saves me from further embarrassment by breaking the awkward silence.

“I’m a big _Hunger Games_ fan, you know,” she says with a wink.

“Oh yeah? I hope I don’t disappoint you in the next one.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t.” Her eyes seem to lighten up. “You were the best thing in the first movie.”

“Well, Jen – Jennifer – is an Oscar winner...” I stammer, looking down sheepishly.

“Well she’s overrated. And you are underrated.”

I stare at her in confusion. There’s something weird in her tone and attitude, but I can’t put my finger on it. Regardless of the compliment, though, I know I don’t appreciate her throwing shade at the woman I still love so much, despite everything that happened between us.

“She’s the best actress I’ve ever worked with,” I say with a smile as I recall watching her act in the scene where Katniss and Peeta part ways in the arena in _Catching Fire_ \- which we reshot after the Oscars - and how I suggested she could do it another way and she teased me that I was trying to give advice to an Oscar winner, before giggling and lightly pecking my lips. I feel a sudden burst of longing at the memory. “No way she’s overrated, I’m sorry. But thanks for the compliment, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.”

She doesn’t add anything, simply lifting her cup to her lips and taking a sip of the mousse covering her coffee, her playful gaze still stuck on me. I start to feel more uncomfortable, so I decide to try and shift the focus on her rather than my personal life.

“So... tell me about you. How did you end up becoming an actress?”

I’m relieved when she goes on a long monologue about how she started out as a child actress – just like me – and had a few roles here and there on some local soap operas, until she landed this part. She also tells me about her next project for after this movie wraps up, a musical in which she will star all throughout the fall.

“You’re a singer?” I ask in surprise.

“Yes. You don’t sing? Maybe I could teach you?”

“Nah,” I chuckle, looking away in shame. “I’m a desperate case. I sound like an old record. But I’d love to hear you, one day.”

“Sure.”

She keeps watching me intently, and as I’m about to take a sip of coffee to dispel the tension, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out just to turn the vibration off, feeling bad for being distracted from my guest.

“Go ahead,” Claudia says, retrieving her own phone from inside her purse.

“Okay.”

I glance at the message on the screen.

JENNIFER: Hey, what about another Skype meeting tonight? I’m off early. I miss you.

I smile, and quickly type back my answer.

JOSH: Yeah, sure. I’ll log on as soon as I get back to the hotel.

Her answer comes in fast.

JENNIFER: Get back? You went out?

My smile grows wider as I imagine a hint of jealousy in her words. Somehow, I like to think that she still feels like she has a claim on me, even though we’re no longer a couple.

Well, we’ve never really been one to start with. But I can recognize that she was possessive of me back then, and it warms my insides to know that she might still be.

I haven’t lost hope that one day, we’ll make it work. Maybe even soon, if I’d stop lying to myself.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Claudia as my fingers run through the screen.

“No, it’s okay,” she replies, her gaze focused on her own phone. “Take your time.”

“Thanks.”

I finally tap the “Send” button.

JOSH: Just having a coffee with my costar.

I wait for her reply, but it doesn’t come. I take a sip and look at Claudia, who is busy typing a message of her own. Then, my own phone finally buzzes with Jen’s answer.

JENNIFER: Is she pretty?

I have to hide a laugh. I decide to be honest.

JOSH: Not as pretty as you.

This time, she doesn’t reply straightaway. Claudia puts her phone back in her purse and surprises me with some personal confessions I hadn’t seen coming.

“I had a boyfriend in Madrid. I broke up just before I came here.”

“Oh...” I say, covering her hand with mine in support. “I’m sorry.”

She has no idea that we have this in common as well. But I’m not about to reveal this to her. I’m not ready to talk about it, especially not with her.

“Thank you,” she says in a soft voice, her eyes fixed on our touching hands. “It wasn’t serious anyway. I’m over him now, really. I’m ready to live something else.”

She looks up into my eyes. I promptly remove my hand from hers and grab my mug with both hands to cover my uneasiness. Then, my phone vibrates again with one last text from Jen.

JENNIFER: Impossible. I bet she’s all your type: brown hair, dark tan, chocolate eyes. Well, see you later.

Grinning, I shake my head and put my phone back in my pocket. Claudia stares at me with a knowing look.

“Your girlfriend?” she asks innocently.

I bite my lip.

“My best friend.”

“Oh. You don’t have a girlfriend?”

I’m taken aback for a second, until I remember that I can answer this very easily. There’s no more hidden romance to cover up.

“No. I don’t.”

She simply nods. I don’t explain things any further or elaborate on the identity of my best friend, and she doesn’t push for it either. Instead, we spend the rest of our meeting chatting about Panama and the movie.

And all along, my thoughts keep drifting to Jennifer, my heart beating faster at the idea of seeing her again – even if only through the screen of my computer.

 

* * *

 

 

She looks stunning, despite the obvious fatigue in her features. Her smile is radiant, her eyes are bright under the webcam light.

I miss her so much.

“Hi, Josh,” she says, her voice sweet, tender.

“Hi,” I reply. “How are you doing?”

“Not so bad. The movie is coming along nicely. I’m almost done shooting my scenes.”

“Nice!”

“What about you?”

I shrug.

“There’s not much to say. We’re getting ready to film. I’m making friends on set. The usual.”

I see her take a deep breath and force a smile.

“What about your costar?” she asks, her shaky voice betraying her jealousy. The thought makes me smile.

“There’s nothing to say. She’s a costar, that’s it. She’s nice.”

“Great.” She gives a forceful nod, and swallows thickly. “You deserve to be surrounded by nice people.”

“Jen...” I start, my heart breaking at what she’s implying. “You know that’s not the reason I broke up, right? You’re the most amazing woman I know.”

She sighs.

“Still. You deserve to be with someone who can be fully yours. Someone who’s not fucked up, someone who-“

“Stop.”

She looks down. I wish I could grab her hand, take her in my arms, whisper in her ear that I’m sorry, that I still love her, that I wish we could just fix what’s wrong between us and get back together. I’ve never damned the miles separating us so much.

“I wish I could see you soon,” she sighs. “I’m done with this movie in a few days and I’m going back home in Kentucky for the weekend. We have a family brunch. If you had been here...”

“Next weekend?” The wheels start turning in my head. Next weekend is my mom’s birthday. Maybe I could...

“Yes, next weekend,” she replies, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “Why? Is there a way you could come back?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to ask. But it’s my mom’s birthday too, and I haven’t started filming yet, and since I got here earlier, most of my prep work is already done. And we already have a day off on weekends. Maybe I could afford to make the trip.”

“That would be so nice!” she says giddily. I smile.

“Look, I’ll call my manager and see if it’s possible, okay? I’d really like to go with you. I... I miss you, Jen. A lot.”

There’s a little voice at the back of my head that warns me it may be too early, but I don’t care. It’s been almost a month and a half already, and if I miss her love, I miss her friendship even more.

I know it won’t help me move on from her. But maybe... I could indulge myself in her presence one last time. Test the waters, see if we can start breaking the awkwardness between us and rebuild our friendship like before. After this, there will be no chance for us to see each other in the flesh for months.

And she’ll be reunited with her ex. That’s when she’ll probably figure out if she truly is over him or not. If she is, then maybe, there’s a chance we could still work together, as a couple. If she isn’t... then I’ll move on. For real, this time. For good.

I stare at her lovely eyes, thinking about all the times she looked at me this way. All the times I believed she loved me as much as I loved her. All the times I foolishly hoped she would be ready to welcome me proudly into her life.

“I miss you too,” she finally says, her voice cracking at the end. “I’m looking at you now, and it’s not enough...”

“I understand.”

She smiles.

“I hope it all works out.”

 

* * *

 

 

It turns out I couldn’t have picked a better moment for my stateside escapade. I’m supposed to start filming only next week, so I’m cleared to make the trip back.

My last trip before going back home for good in a couple of months.

As I pack in my luggage, Andre’s hard voice calling me from the living room of my suite makes me jump in surprise.

“What is this shit?”

I sigh and turn around, taking in his angry look.

“I’m just going home for the weekend,” I say calmly. “No big deal. It’s my mom’s birthday, remember?”

“I thought you had decided to miss out this year because of the hassle from going back and forth,” he points out. “Unless... unless you have another reason to go?”

I look down.

“Jen invited me to a brunch with her family on Sunday,” I admit, turning away from him to shove a few t-shirts in my suitcase.

“She did? Why?”

“Well, it’s our last opportunity to see each other-“

“I thought it was over?”

“It is. But we’re still friends. And I want us to stay friends.”

I carefully avoid mentioning how I still hope it could evolve into more, maybe even soon. He shakes his head sadly.

“How will you face her? After you broke her heart?”

“I’ve talked to her a few times already, Andre. She’s gotten over it. She knows it couldn’t keep going that way.”

“That girl was in love with you.”

“Nope. She loved me, yes, but she wasn’t in love. Not yet.”

“How do you know that?”

“If she truly was in love with me, she wouldn’t have been so confused. We’re just going back to being simple, good friends, for now. And trust me, it’s going pretty well so far.”

He doesn’t answer right away. I walk to the closet to pick a couple of pairs of jeans.

“Tell yourself that,” he finally says. “It’s too early. It’s gonna backfire.”

“I don’t think so.”

He sighs, and then lifts his hands up as if to surrender. I walk back to the bed and put the last two items of clothing inside the case.

“You tell me, when we come back.”

I give him a sad smile, before zipping my suitcase.

“I sure will.”

 

* * *

 

 

I land in Cincinnati the day before my mom’s birthday. I’ve decided to keep my visit a secret, only telling it to my brother so he could plan the whole gathering at the house, with the rest of the family’s help.

That is, everyone but my dad.

I will see him later today, but it stings to think he will leave before the party. Upon talking with Connor on the phone, I found out he and my mom were still friends, but he isn’t at ease staying for the party. I don’t know why, if they’re still friends. After all, what I’ll be doing with Jennifer’s family tomorrow is similar. I can’t imagine a reason why I wouldn’t be comfortable enough to stay.

Because I don’t want to reveal my presence to my mom before tomorrow, I’ve rented a room in a hotel with Andre instead of staying home as usual. So we take a cab from the airport to the hotel, riding the car in total silence. I can sense he’s still mad at me for what he perceives is me playing with Jen’s feelings, but I don’t care. He can think whatever he wants. I know what I’m doing. And Jen seems perfectly okay with it too.

As soon as we’re set in the room, I retrieve my phone from my jean pocket to call my brother. I barely have time to sit next to the window before I hear his jovial tone, his voice now matching mine almost perfectly.

“Hey, bro,” he starts. “You made it?”

“Yep. Just wanted to make sure everything is ready.”

“What, you don’t trust your little bro?”

I chuckle.

“No, that’s the thing. I trust you to make this into this huge party that will be just too big for us, you know? Keep it simple, man.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.”

I bite my lip. There’s an awkward silence when Connor doesn’t add anything either.

“Have you seen dad in a while?” I finally ask. Better get this out of the way as soon as possible.

“Yes.”

“How is he?”

He hesitates. I stare outside at the cars waiting at the red light.

“He’s okay, I guess. They were drifting apart for a long time, you know.”

Yes, I know. Eleven years, to be exact. Probably going back to that day when I left Kentucky with my mom to try my luck at pilot season in Hollywood. Who knows what would have happened if I had been a normal kid, rather than a thirsty wannabe child actor.

I sigh.

“I can’t believe they never told me anything about it. How long have you known?”

“A few weeks... months, I guess.”

A few months. So, the last time I saw my dad back in February at the Super Bowl, he could have told me what was going on. Yet, he didn’t say a word.

But I suddenly recall his taciturn behavior that day. The sad look in his eyes when I confessed my relationship woes to him. Was he thinking about his own problems? Was he debating over revealing the truth to me?

I’ll probably never know.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he adds on a remorseful tone.

“No, it’s okay,” I say before he has a chance to add anything. “It wasn’t yours to tell.”

There is a pregnant pause, before my brother changes subjects and reassures me that everything is under control for tomorrow’s party. I thank him and hurry to hang up, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with everything we left unsaid. This is a sensitive matter and I’m not ready to talk about it.

Especially as I’m set to be faced with it in just a few hours when I meet up with him.

 

* * *

 

 

The dinner with my dad goes on in an awkward string of silences, odd small talk and absolutely no mentions to our respective personal lives. He sticks to his job, Connor’s spring break, the latest college basketball tournament. In return, I never once bring up Jennifer. I simply talk about the weather in Panama, the flight back home, and my excitement at the idea of working with Benicio again. Andre joins us for the meal, and tries to fill the silence with stupid anecdotes of his own.

And so when the night is over and we part ways, I’m not sad. I’m relieved.

The next day, Andre rents a car to drive us to Union. I’m expecting a text or a phone call from Jen about our meeting tomorrow morning, but she doesn’t give any sign of life.

The ride to Union is another awkward experience. Andre tries to make light conversation, but I’m still thinking about yesterday. Studying my dad’s way of moving on.

Andre quickly gives up his attempt at distracting me from my dark thoughts.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” I reply, looking out the window at the panels announcing we’ll soon be in Kentucky that are lining the road.

He chuckles.

“Yeah, right.”

I sigh.

“I’m just sad my dad won’t be here, is all,” I say in a dry voice. “It’s the first family event he’ll miss... voluntarily.”

From the corner of my eye, I see him nod lightly. His eyes don’t leave the road ahead when he utters his answer.

“He’s giving you ideas.”

“What?”

“He’s giving you a crash course on how to move on from the woman you love,” he explains, shaking his head. “Am I correct?”

I would be lying if I said that it didn’t cross my mind. That my dad’s strong resolve in detaching himself from my mom is quickly becoming an example of how I should behave with Jen, if I want to forget her – as a lover – one day.

And that going to her family outing tomorrow might be my first mistake in the process, though I still reckon there’s hope for us. I can’t bring myself to give up so easily. I won’t follow my father’s path.

As if he were reading my thoughts, Andre turns to me and speaks with gritted teeth.

“Don’t you dare cancel your trip tomorrow.”

“There’s no way I would,” I say in a small voice.

“Good.”

He focuses on the road ahead, and I take a deep breath. The morning sun blinds me suddenly, and I close my eyes to relax and try to forget the harsh reality of my current love life.

Try to forget the hope in Jen’s eyes when I suggested I could take a break and fly back for the weekend. Surely, she’s just eager to get her best friend back.

I decide that I am, too. I’m not ready to allow myself to hope for anything more, for now.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, bro!”

As soon as Andre and I walk inside the house, Connor greets me with a pat on the back and a big bear hug. I grin as he quickly hugs Andre, and we all make our way to the kitchen.

“She’s gonna be back in an hour,” he explains. “People should start arriving soon.”

“Great.”

I open the fridge and start pulling plates of sandwiches out. Andre grabs one of the bags of chips on the counter, gets a bowl out of the cabinet and dumps the bag’s contents into it.

We work in silence for a while until I sense my brother’s insistent gaze on me. I turn to face him, and he smiles warmly.

“I’m really happy you made the trip. She has no idea. And she’ll be thrilled. You can’t possibly imagine. After the last few weeks...” he bites his lip. I nod, allowing him to keep his thoughts on the situation to himself.

“Yeah. I’m glad I could come, too.”

“Still gonna see Jen tomorrow?”

“If she ever calls me, yes,” I say, fetching my phone from my jean pocket. I frown when I see I have one unread message.

“Damn it,” I mutter, “how come I didn’t hear it ring?”

I scan the screen for the message and smile.

JENNIFER: Hey! Thought I wouldn’t follow up, huh? I’ll be waiting for you at my parents’ place tomorrow morning at 9. You better not be late.

I type back my reply with a smile.

JOSH: YOU better be ready by the time I get there. You can count on me.

Her answer comes in quickly, and my heart tightens in my chest when I see her words.

JENNIFER: Great! See you tomorrow. Love you.

I look up, feeling some tears prickle at the corners of my eyes, and sigh. I pinch my nose to get back to reality, and write up my reply.

JOSH: See you tomorrow. Love you too.

Which is true. I just need to go back to a more friendship-type of love.

This is fucking hard.

She doesn’t answer, and I hide my phone back in my pocket. Connor stares at me, obviously aware of my discomfort.

“Yep, I’m going,” I say simply. He nods, knowing me well enough to figure out when to avoid pushing a subject further.

He doesn’t have a chance to try and get more information out of me, because there’s a ring at the door and he has to welcome the first guests. Quickly, the house fills up with a large mix of friends and family members.

I’m glad for the opportunity to be left alone. I grab a bottle of beer and gulp it down rather quickly, while feeling Andre’s judging stare stuck on me. I shake my head.

“You better not comment on this.”

“I haven’t said a word.”

“You don’t even need to talk.”

“Josh...”

“No.”

This is not the time. I take a deep breath, plant a huge smile on my lips and start to act as the social butterfly I’ve always been, making chitchat with all the people around me while we wait for our guest of honor.

She doesn’t make us wait for long. Suddenly, Connor asks us all to hide in the kitchen as he has just spotted my grandfather’s car turning in the driveway. We all wait in silence until we hear the door open, and then everyone runs into the living room, screaming in unison.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHELLE!”

I’m standing at the back of the crowd, so she doesn’t see me, but I catch a glimpse of her doing a stunned double-take, freezing in the middle of removing her coat while my grandfather joins the chorus of voices singing her “happy birthday” and clapping their hands. And then, she’s laughing, crying, hugging and kissing every guest. I stay in the shadows, a large smile lighting up my face. Once she gets close enough to see me, I share a quick glance with my brother, who nods in her direction to give me a signal to move forward. As I walk next to her and she finally turns around, she covers her mouth with her hands in surprise and stares at me with wide eyes.

“Josh!” she says with her sweet, delicate voice, while slowly lowering her hands. Her eyes start to get teary as I walk closer and open my arms to her for a crushing hug.

“Happy birthday, mom.”

“When did you get here? You’re not supposed to be here!” she scolds me, and I chuckle.

“I was allowed to take a short break.”

“Oh, Josh,” she whispers, tightening her hold on me. Somehow, I’m getting emotional over this too, seeing how proud and surprised she is at the sight of me here for her birthday. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too.”

I pull away, and she grabs my cheeks, staring at me as if I wasn’t real. As if it could be someone else standing here in front of her, and not her own son.

My aunt breaks the moment by wishing her happy birthday, and making her attention shift away from me. I walk back into the kitchen to fetch another beer.

I observe the scene from afar, taking in how ecstatic my mom looks. How free. Maybe the only reason that she’s glowing so much is because it’s her birthday. But I can’t shake the intuition that her looking so happy might have something to do with her feeling released from the cage of her marriage to my dad.

And then it pains me again to think that he’s not here today.

I wonder if he’s even wished her a happy birthday.

People quickly start conversations, and I find myself alone in a corner of the kitchen while everyone is busy chatting. As I finally decide to go mingle with the people – after all, I know most of them, and I barely have a chance to see them as it is, what with my hectic schedule – I’m taken aback by an unexpected sight near the hallway.

“Dad?” I say incredulously, and he turns around to face me, a small smile lighting up his face.

“You really thought I wouldn’t show up to your mom’s birthday?” he winks.

I frown.

“I thought... never mind,” I reply with a dismissive gesture. He takes off his coat, walks up to me and hugs me.

“How are you, son?” he asks.

“I’m great.”

He gives me a small nod, and scans the crowd for a sign of the one celebrating her birthday. When he finally catches sight of her short frame and blonde hair in the middle of the people, he walks up to her, and she greets him with a huge grin.

She doesn’t seem surprised to see him there. I don’t get it.

“Happy birthday,” he says, taking her in his arms.

“Thank you so much! I’m glad you came,” she replies.

“I couldn’t miss that.”

The smile they share makes me puzzled. Where is the awkward dad I had dinner with last night?

As I observe them, chatting and laughing with everybody, I shake my head and just give up on trying to figure out what’s going on.

I’m sure I’ll find out soon anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Jennifer’s POV**

My eyes keep darting to the mural clock in my parents’ living room, as I feel my heart beating faster with every passing minute. I’m trying to help my brothers get the house ready for the brunch by decorating the walls with balloons and ribbons, but since I keep getting distracted, I frankly don’t get much work done at all. When I’m not glancing at the clock, I find myself staring through the window and getting lost in my thoughts as I worry over the feelings I will have to face when I’ll stand in front of him in person for the first time since he walked away from me.

There’s this voice nagging me at the back of my head, telling me that I’m about to make a huge mistake. That as soon as I will take in his athletic silhouette, his puppy eyes, his handsome face, I will forget all effort I did of ever moving on and jump back into his arms.

I have to remind myself that this is not what he wants. I need to respect his choice and give him his space.

And the hopeful voice that fights for my attention inside me reminds me that if we can have a successful friendship, maybe someday we could try again for a romantic relationship. Because I refuse to give up forever on the man I love, especially knowing that he loves me too and that he’s not closing the door completely.

“Jen?” my mom calls. “Can you come here, please?”

I scan the dining room for the provenance of her voice, until I finally spot her in the kitchen. I stick a blue balloon on the wall before making my way to her, plastering a huge smile on my face to hide my crazy nerves. But she sees right through me, as usual.

“Are you okay?” she asks, cradling my cheek. “You look nervous.”

“Yes, yes. I’m alright.”

She shakes her head with a small smile.

“When did you talk to him last?”

“Yesterday,” I sigh. “We had a Facetime chat after he arrived at his parents’ place.”

A brief chat. Just enough time to let me know he made it home safely and was looking forward to seeing me today.

Just enough time to haunt me with his bright eyes, his smile, his voice.

We’ve exchanged a few texts since, but nothing more.

“So why are you stressed out then?” She says, taking a knife out of the drawer before cutting slices of watermelon. I wash my hands and start to fill a plate with various fruit pieces.

“You’re clever.”

“Perceptive, more,” she smiles. “And I know you.”

I look down.

“Mom, it’s the first time I’ll see him again after... after...”

I can’t seem to find the words.

“After he asked you for a break?” she whispers, grabbing my arms and rubbing them soothingly.

I roll my eyes.

“It was more than a break, mom.”

She grins wider, while shaking her head.

“It will end up being no more than a break. Believe me.”

I let her words sink in. Maybe she’s right. Maybe he’ll change his mind sooner than I hope for. After all, he was ready to see me here today – it should count for something. I sigh.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

“Yes.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I grab it and stare at the screen, a wave of anxiety spreading through me as I read the words again and again, frozen in place.

JOSH: Come out.

I finally look up at my mom, force a smile, and tell her I’ll be back. Without a look behind at my brothers, I make my way to the front door and put on my boots and coat before quickly slipping outside. The sun warms up the still chilly air, reflecting on the light patches of pure white snow littering the ground in front of the house. I walk down the steps, hands in my pockets, and saunter towards the unknown car that’s parked in the driveway. When he finally gets out, turning his head to face me, I stop sharply, and a lump forms in my throat.

He walks slowly towards me, and I feel a rush of conflicting emotions go through me. Most of them picking up straight from the last time we saw each other in person.

He stops in front of me, a light smile drawing itself on his slightly chapped lips.

“Hi,” he whispers, and my eyes immediately get teary.

“Hi,” I reply, staring at him without making a move. I don’t know what to do. I want to throw myself in his arms, feel the strength of his sturdy body, breathe in his familiar scent, but I’m scared it’s too early. I’m scared he’ll be upset.

He seems to figure out my unease, because he finally opens up his arms, and I don’t even hesitate before snuggling into them, letting go of the tears burning my eyes. I’m speechless, my heart heavy with the weight of the loneliness and longing I’ve felt these past few weeks. Something has definitely changed between us, but at the same time, I feel as if I’ve got my friend back. His hand rubbing circles on my back triggers familiar sensations, and his breath tickling my neck makes me feel so good. When we pull away, I stare at his face for a while, taking in the mix of happiness and relief that taints his features.

I press my forehead against his, trying to gain control of my sobs.

“I missed you so much,” I whimper, and he nods lightly.

“I missed you too.”

It takes all of my willpower not to press my lips against his. The current between us is still as sharp as it used to be, despite the hard days we both went through after he took his decision. It takes a long time before he lets his arms softly trail down my back, making the fabric of my coat creak under his touch.

“I’m really glad you could come,” I say, tentatively taking one of his hands.

“We were so lucky to be off at the same time. I couldn’t let that opportunity pass by. How long until we can meet again?” he chuckles sadly.

“Too long.”

“Yeah. I figured,” he sighs.

An uncomfortable silence settles between us.

“Wanna come inside?” I ask, holding tighter to his hand. He smiles.

“Yeah, sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as we pass the threshold, several gazes turn to us, studying us without a word. I’m relieved to find that everyone seems quite happy to see Josh.

Everyone, except Blaine, whose smile quickly fades and is replaced by an angry frown. I swallow thickly and force a grin to try and dissipate the tension. My mom’s eyes flicker from Blaine’s pissed off face to my uncomfortable smile, before she walks over to Josh, greeting him cheerfully and pulling him to her in a warm embrace.

“Josh! We’re really happy you could be here with us today,” she says, genuine happiness in her voice.

“Well, thank you for having me,” he replies as she pulls away. “It’s a pleasure.”

I exchange looks with him and understand by the sadness that he can’t quite hide in his eyes, that he must have noticed my brother’s hostile reaction. I promise myself to find a way to have a talk with him in private later on.

“How was the trip home?” I ask him as my mom walks back to the kitchen.

“It was good. It’s a long plane ride, I wouldn’t do it every week!”

“I guess,” I smile.

We both remove our coats and hang them in the closet. Josh bends over to take off his boots and I quickly follow him. When we straighten back up, I notice that Blaine is busy helping my mom set the table, and so his eyes aren’t shooting daggers at Josh anymore. I breathe in deeply.

“I’m grateful for your big brothers,” Josh says in a low voice. “I’m really glad they’re invested in protecting you.”

I turn around to face him, my heart tightening in my chest.

“Josh...”

He shakes his head.

“Not now.”

I nod.

“Okay.”

We stare at each other for a second, before I tentatively take his hand and lead him to the kitchen, where the rest of my family is getting the brunch ready. Ben is carrying his son on his shoulders, stopping next to the counter to grab a slice of honeydew. My sisters-in-law – rather, my actual and my future - are chatting next to the refrigerator. My dad is preparing some pancakes over on the stove, his attention completely absorbed by his cooking.

I chance a look at Josh, to find that he’s walking resolutely towards my sisters-in-law. He stops in front of them, greeting them with a nice grin. They both answer him with warm smiles of their own, and I realize that most likely, Blaine hasn’t let them in on my love life problems.

I feel a surge of relief go through me. At least, it shouldn’t be too awkward with them.

“Hi,” he says in a cheery voice.

“Hi, Josh. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Ben’s wife Meredith replies, pulling him to her for a hug after he kisses her cheeks. I recall how they talked a lot while he was playing with my nephew – her son - back in Hawaii. He then leans in to greet Carson, Blaine’s fiancée, the same way, before turning towards my dad and shaking his hand enthusiastically.

My parents both know something happened and came to an end between us. But I never opened up to them on the details. Only Blaine knows, because just like Justine, he tried to reach for me the week after Josh left. I had no choice but to confess to him what happened.

And he’s been furious at Josh ever since.

I haven’t told Josh yet, but he’s obviously figured it out as soon as he set foot in the house and saw his angry stare. I leave Josh to speak with my dad and walk to Blaine, who lifts his eyes from the table and gives me a hard look.

“Please,” I whisper. “Make an effort, will you?”

“I don’t know what you were thinking, Jen,” he replies with gritted teeth, his grasp on the silverware he’s holding looking almost painfully strong. “How can you-“

“It’s my life, Blaine,” I cut him off. “Thank you for your support. But as painful as it was, we needed it.”

“That’s bullshit, you know it.”

“No, it’s not. Please?”

He looks at me and sighs.

“Okay.”

Josh soon joins us, and offers a hand for my brother to shake.

“Hey, man,” he says as Blaine stares at his hand with a hard gaze, before finally seizing it, letting out a resigned sigh. Josh looks down, seeing all too well that my brother isn’t comfortable with his presence here today. “Look...”

“Don’t,” Blaine answers, his face softening just a little bit, but his tone still icy cold. “I told you not to hurt her. You did. I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t mad at you. But... I trust her. And she says it’s okay. So...”

Josh nods slightly as Blaine forces a small smile.

“Thanks,” I say, pulling Josh away with me. “We really need to talk.”

I drag him to the stairs leading to the basement, which we walk down discreetly. I turn the light switch on, and pull Josh with me away from the staircase to make sure no one can listen to us. He follows me without a word, until I come to a halt in the middle of the leisure room. I can sense his presence behind me, so close, but I’m suddenly afraid of turning around to face him. Afraid of going too far again. Afraid of falling back, head first, into our toxic relationship.

“Jen?”

The soft sound of his voice makes my heart beat faster. I turn around slowly, take in the glint in his eyes. He gently grabs my elbows, pulling me closer to him, and whispers.

“I know I’ve told you already, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry I had to do that. I’m sorry I hurt you. I just...” He looks down, and my heart tightens at his words. “I love you. I do. But you and I... we don’t work, together.”

He raises his gaze, and I nod, still unable to bear to look at his eyes.

“I know. It’s my fault.”

“No. Not just you.”

I shake my head.

“Okay,” I sigh. “Mostly me, then.”

This conversation is quickly getting a lot more serious than anything we’ve exchanged over Skype ever since he called me again two weeks ago. I’m not sure I’m ready for that, but at the same time, I know this is my only chance to talk to him in person for a long while. Tonight, he’ll fly back to Panama and I will move to Montreal to shoot _X-Men_.

With Nick, whom I haven’t seen since we briefly crossed paths at the BAFTA’s in February, and who is still the main reason why Josh can’t trust me fully yet.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he can sort of read my thoughts by now.

“Have you talked to Nick recently?” Josh asks. His voice is surprisingly collected.

“No. I’ve been so busy with shooting. We were working long days, so when I was done, I would either sleep or talk to you.”

“You shouldn’t call me if you’re tired,” he says in a low voice, his hands sliding up to rub my arms comfortingly. “You need rest. I don’t want you to get sick again.”

“I don’t need more rest. I need you.”

His face falls.

“Jen...”

“I know. “

“Hey,” he murmurs, cupping my face softly. “No. If you need me, I’ll be there. I want us to be friends. It kills me that it’s so awkward between us now. I just...” He sighs. “I need you too. I need something stable right now.”

I frown and he immediately bites his lower lip, his fingers quickly sliding off my face.

“Why?”

He breathes heavily and stares away. I gently cradle his face to force him to look back at me, and the burst of sadness I see in his eyes takes me aback.

“Josh?”

“My parents are having a divorce,” he lets out in a breath, turning around to hide the rush of emotions showing on his face. My heart stops. I wasn’t expecting this at all.

It must be so hard for him to see my own parents so happy, so in love. And my brothers, one married, the other almost. I see his shoulders slump in defeat, and I can’t help but attempt to comfort him the best way I can.

Slowly, tentatively, I snake my arms around his waist and rest my cheek on the strong muscles of his back, holding him tightly to me.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. He covers my hands with his and lets out a single, heartbreaking sob. I burrow my face into his neck, and try to push down the wave of nostalgia rushing through me at the motion.

He’s my friend. And he’s in pain. I have to be there for him, even if the longing kills me.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, and I feel him relax in my embrace. “I didn’t see it coming, but when I think about it, it was obvious it was gonna end that way.”

“You’re allowed to be upset, you know.”

“I know.”

I let silence fall between us. I know I should let go, pull away from him, but I can’t. And he doesn’t seem ready to let go either.

We’re walking on a dangerous line.

When he finally moves to turn around in my arms, I realize that his eyes are full of tears.

“Oh, Josh...” I say, pulling him to me for a big hug.

“I’m sorry. I should be stronger than that...”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It hits me that in the two weeks we’ve talked, he never said a word about it, despite being obviously deeply upset by the situation. I can’t help but feel somewhat sad. Betrayed, even.

Although I know I shouldn’t expect that of him anymore. At least, not just two weeks after we started talking again.

I step back to watch his face, and he shrugs.

“I don’t know. Didn’t get a chance, I guess. And you were busy-“

“Josh.” My hands slide from around his neck to cradle his face. “I will always be there for you, okay? Always.”

“I know. It’s the same for me. But-“

“No. There’s no ‘but’, alright?”

He nods.

“Alright.”

I force a smile on my face, which he quickly imitates. A lone tear starts rolling down his cheek, and I softly wipe it off with my thumb. He surprises me by pressing his face against my palm, and suddenly, the tension that had filled the air between us earlier outside comes back in full force. I swallow thickly, fighting the desire to taste his lips once again.

I miss him so much.

He closes his eyes and sighs.

“It was better that way. Believe me.”

For some reason, I assume he’s not referring to his parents’ divorce.

 

* * *

 

 

We make our way back up before the family starts questioning our disappearance. Josh follows me around, a lot quieter than usual, and we take our seats around the table. There’s still some coldness between him and Blaine, but I sense that my brother is truly making an effort to forget what happened and actually include him in the gathering.

As if he were part of the family. Which he is, despite the fact that we’re no longer dating. He’s still the closest person to me right now, the only one who knows me, inside and out.

As everyone sits around the table, the attention shifts from us to my young nephew, and then to Blaine and his future wife, talking about their wedding preparations. I can’t help my gaze from flicking to Josh’s sad face. His eyes focus on the flowers adorning the tablecloth, and I recall the sad news he’s just revealed to me. It must be weighing heavily on his mind right now. I grab his hand under the table, which seems to take him by surprise as he slightly turns his head towards me and forces a smile that falls quickly from his face. I begin rubbing soothing circles on the top of his hand and he looks down at our entwined fingers, a sad smile slowly drawing itself on his lips.

As I stare at his profile, I try to imagine us together in a few years. Him proposing to me, our wedding, and then, living the married life, having children, making a home in Kentucky. We would plan our lives around the kids, choosing projects carefully, spending as much time at home as possible. It would be perfect.

But then my dream quickly fades when I remember that we’re no longer together and he’s just told me it wouldn’t work between us. As much as I think we can make it work, he doesn’t. It might never happen.

The thought fills me with grief. I look away as I sense Blaine’s inquisitive glance on me. I don’t want him to get mad at Josh for nothing again, so I try to focus my eyes on anything but him, so that he doesn’t get any wrong idea.

My dad starts talking college basketball with Josh, and that immediately pulls him out of any melancholic state he was in, to my biggest relief. I don’t pay much attention to what they say, focusing on the delicious pancakes filling my plate instead. The conversation quickly gets animated, and Josh goes back to his usual cheerful personality.

“I swear, next year, UK is gonna make the tournament. And we’re gonna beat Louisville’s ass.”

“Never even in your wildest dreams, son,” my dad says with a deep laugh. Somehow, it warms my heart to see my dad treat him like one of his own sons. Daring to talk about their rival teams, bickering back and forth with each other.

This would never have happened with Nick.

I take a bite of pancake and will his image to get out my head. My thoughts drift back to my earlier conversation with Josh, when he casually asked me if I had had any contact with him recently. As my latest project is now over, I know I will have to face him in Montreal soon. Too soon for my liking. And I know I can’t let things sit on that note between us, or we’re in for a very displeasing work experience.

I stare at Josh, who finally looks happy as my dad indulges in his sports rambling, and I take the opportunity to excuse myself from the table for a moment. I need to stop avoiding that chore for good.

I walk to my old room, lock myself in and fetch my phone from my pocket, scrolling down the screen until I spot his name in my contacts. I think of leaving him a simple text, but in the end, I decide to call him instead. I don’t want to wait for his response before getting this out of the way.

As I wait for him to pick up the phone, I sit on my old bed and caress the satin comforter with my fingers.

“Hello? Jen?” he snorts. I close my eyes and pinch my nose.

“Hi, Nick.”

There’s a silence on the phone. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting my call, but he also doesn’t seem very happy to hear my voice.

“Hi,” he finally replies, his tone more serious. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“How’s Josh?”

I sense some sarcasm in his voice, but I decide not to play his game.

“He’s okay.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I thought...” I bite my lip. “We’re gonna be filming together soon, and it’s been a while since we last saw each other...”

“Oh, you finally miss me? Took you long enough. You finally got tired of banging that kid?”

I let out a frustrated sigh. This is exactly why I need to do what I’m about to do, even though it displeases me a whole lot.

“Nick, come on” I say with gritted teeth. “I thought you’d have moved on by now.”

“Oh, I have,” he chuckles. “That doesn’t mean I have any kind of respect for the guy who caused my girlfriend to dump me.”

I can feel anger bubbling in my chest, but I breathe in deeply to keep it contained.

“What do you want exactly?” he adds on a nonchalant tone.

“I thought we should see each other before going away to film. Just so we can... renew our friendship, I guess.”

“Okay. Well. When are you back in LA?”

“In two weeks.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Where are you?”

“New York.”

I hear a high-pitched chuckle in the background, which makes my heart catch in my throat. As if the possibility of him being with another woman was upsetting me. I don’t know why.

“Well,” he says, a smile obvious in his voice. “I’ll call you in two weeks then. Bye.”

I don’t even have time to answer before he hangs up on me. Likely to go back to that woman I heard in the background. I stay there for a few seconds, stunned by what just happened. I take a deep breath and stand up, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

I look shocked.

My gaze flits down as I realize that Josh was right all along. I might not be as over Nick as I thought I was.

And Josh deserves so much better than this.

 

* * *

 

 

**Josh’s POV**

The longer I look around at the people surrounding me, the more I wonder if it was a good idea to make the trip here.

Jen’s lovey-dovey parents unknowingly remind me non-stop that my own parents are getting a divorce.

Ben’s happy little family, with his lovely wife and adorable kid, forces me to face the fact that I will never fulfill that dream I had of living the same kind of life with Jen.

Blaine barely manages to hide his loathing of me, and I understand him. I would be disgusted, too, if I was sitting in front of the guy who broke my sister’s heart.

And then, there’s Jen. Funny, sweet, happy Jen.

Fucking sexy Jen.

She doesn’t know how much she’s driving me crazy with her skinny jeans and tight top that outline every one of her curves, and her back-to-almost-natural-blonde hair falling in waves over her shoulders. It’s taking me a lot of willpower to keep from delicately running my fingers through her locks, putting them aside, and planting my lips on the inviting skin of her neck.

I have to remind myself that she’s not mine. Not anymore. She never was, and possibly never will be.

I pretended not noticing how she suddenly disappeared from the table to retreat in what probably used to be her bedroom. Instead, I bond with her dad over our common passion for college basketball, and forget that the attention of the rest of the table is back on me, which has made me uncomfortable ever since I entered the house.

When Jen finally joins us back, she looks upset, a deep frown etched onto her features. I exchange a look with her, and she tells me with a brief look of relief in her eyes that all is okay for now. I furrow my eyebrows in return, before quickly putting my attention back on the food, hoping not to raise questions from the rest of the table.

But my heart sinks in my chest. I remember all too well the look on her face when I asked her if she’d talked to Nick recently. I fear her anxiety has to do with him.

She tries to reassure me by grabbing my hand under the table once again. I let her. It’s not something that was uncommon back when we were just friends, after all.

As is the tingling sensation in my chest, which dates back to the time we barely knew each other. Back when we were filming the first movie, and she was already acting all lovey-dovey with me, touching me every time she could, having no idea how she was driving me insane with want. But she was forbidden at that time.

Or so I thought.

I can’t believe she was already attracted to me back then. How different could it have been if we’d both been single, or if we’d taken different decisions? If we’d been more forward with each other, and she hadn’t stayed with him for so long. If we’d relieved that desire a long time ago rather than letting it escalate to the point where it consumed us both, leading us into a toxic relationship because we skipped some steps and dived in too fast. Before her heart was truly free.

I know it’s useless, but I can’t help my mind from drifting to all kinds of scenarios.

I barely talk for the rest of the meal, instead trying to listen to Jen’s brothers, laughing with them at their jokes, exchanging wide smiles with her parents, playing peek-a-boo with her nephew.

I almost feel part of the family. Almost.

When Jen’s mom stands up to clear the table, I immediately do the same, starting to pick up the dishes on the table.

“It’s okay, Josh, we can do it,” she says, shaking her head to convince me to let it go.

“No,” I reply, bringing my plate and Jen’s to the kitchen. “I want to help. It’s okay.”

She sighs, and Meredith takes the opportunity to go change her son’s diaper. The brothers go on a conversation while Carson and Jen join us in the kitchen with more plates and silverware. I offer to help with washing the dishes, but this time, Jen’s mom won’t let me.

“Come on. We’ll do it. You’re our guest. Don’t bother with that. But thank you anyway.”

I nod, and turn to Jen.

“You too, Jen,” her mother adds. “Maybe you should go outside for a little bit, breathe in some fresh air, what do you think?”

It’s pretty obvious that she’s trying to force us into getting some private time together, but I’m not gonna complain. Jen nods, and I follow her to the living room, where we dress up for the cold before getting outside in the sun. We walk down to the street, and she shoves her hands in her pockets, waiting for me to join her on the side of the road. Together, we begin strolling in silence.

“Are you sure it’s okay that we’re out together in public?” I ask, looking around, a slight feeling of dread invading me at the thought of being recognized by her parents’ neighbors.

“Yes. It’s quiet, here.”

She looks thoughtful. I decide to joke to try to alleviate the tension quickly building between us. I’m not sure I want to know what she’s thinking about.

“So why do you think your mom was trying to kick us out of the house for?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she knows we have things to figure out.”

She bites her lip. I stare at her with a frown.

“Like what?”

“Like...” She stops sharply, staring down at her feet, and she takes a deep breath, before looking back up at me with pleading eyes. “What are we doing, Josh? Who are we kidding? I love you, you love me, why does this have to be so complicated between us?”

Now I know it was definitely a terrible idea to come here today. Not only did I feel the wrath of her brother, now I’ve managed to confuse her – and myself, too – even more.

“What were you doing when you left the table?” I ask, immediately regretting my words. She doesn’t owe me any explanation for that. And to be honest, I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to my question.

I hate myself for forcing her to confess it to me, though. And so I quickly try to catch myself up.

“No, you don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry,” I add, looking away in shame. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, Josh. I owe you the truth. I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me in the past. I want this to change. I want us to be honest with each other. Is that something you want too?”

I turn to face her, and I see the pleading in her eyes. The supplication to agree to her terms.

“Of course, this is something I want too,” I say in a low voice. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. But-“

“No ‘but’,” she interrupts me, and I nod. “I need to give you a reason to trust me. And it starts by being honest. Yes, I called Nick.”

Even though I was expecting it, hearing it feels like a total shock. The pang of jealousy in my chest takes my breath away for a second, before my brain takes over and I realize that I’m being unfair. That it was gonna happen eventually. That they’re about to embark on a months-long filming contract together. And that they’re friends.

But it doesn’t make it any less painful, especially after all we went through last year while she was trying to sort out her feelings – both for me and for him.

She’s still staring at me with the same hopeful gaze, the same confident expression that has me feeling guilty of being so jealous.

“Alright,” I answer, trying to hide my emotions as best as I can, but I know she has figured out I was hurt.

“I need to set some things straight with him so we can work together without fighting,” she explains, and my heart tightens in my chest at every mention of him she makes. I’ll really have to work hard to get rid of this jealousy and possessiveness that I’m not allowed to feel anymore. And as if she were reading my thoughts – which she is, most of the time, anyway – she addresses my concern without me even having to voice it out. “It was the first time I talked to him since the BAFTA’s. And even that day, we didn’t really talk. I wasn’t interested in seeing him. I was obsessed with the idea of coming back home. To you. We said ‘hi’, took a couple of pictures, and that’s it.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself, Jennifer,” I reply. Her face falls at my use of her full name. It sounds so formal, so cold, so detached coming out of my mouth. I feel a bit guilty at seeing her looking upset. I take a look around, making sure no one is watching us, and I grab both her cold hands in my own. “Look...” I stare down at our entwined hands, and sigh. “I think we needed that break. And I think you know it too. If there ever is something more between us, I want it to last.”

She shakes her head up and down fast in approval. It kills me to say what I need to say, but deep down, I know it’s for the best.

“The truth is that we weren’t ready for what we were trying to do, Jen. And from what I understand, you still aren’t ready. And I can tell you that I’m not ready either. You know what we have to work on.”

“Yes. I do.”

I look up into her deep blue eyes, and the disappointment I see in them makes my heart twist in my chest.

“How can you be so wise?” she asks with a sad chuckle.

I shrug, a small smile on my lips, and cup her face in my hands, before pressing my forehead against hers. I have to fight a strong desire to kiss her. Instead, I whisper, my breath brushing her skin as her arms gently circle my waist.

“I don’t know. But it’s what we have to do.”

She closes her eyes and tightens her hold on my body. I sigh. Slowly, I sense her lips getting impossibly closer to mine, until I feel the unmistakable velvety sensation of her soft lips gently brushing mine. As much as I would like to resist, I’m powerless, and so I close my eyes and let myself taste the sweet flavor of her skin, enjoy the movement of her lips pressing against mine more strongly, welcome her tongue inside my mouth. My thumbs caress her cheeks while she lets her hands wander all over my back. I can’t think anymore, I’m just overwhelmed by the emotion I feel her pour into that kiss. When we finally part, I shake my head slightly.

“I know,” she whispers, lightly pecking my lips one last time, before letting her arms slide around my torso. I immediately feel weak without her to ground myself to. “I still love you. I always will. I need you to remember that.”

I nod, and she takes my hand sloppily.

“Come on,” she says, pulling me with her back in the direction of her parents’ house. “We have planes to catch later.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jen and I say goodbye at her parents’ house, as I will drive back to Cincinnati to take my flight tonight. It’s a whole lot easier to act friendly around her family, and I find myself grateful that I don’t have to deal with more confusing emotions before I leave. I’m having a hard time keeping my walls up, saving that resolve I’d worked so hard to build before I took the decision to go ahead with the move that was heartbreaking for the both of us, but necessary given all the problems that were dooming our relationship to fail at some point.

Her tender-turned-passionate kiss replays non-stop in my head as I’m riding the cab to the airport for the trip back to Panama, making me wonder if I should just stop trying to move on from her, and just give in to the love she so readily offers me, despite the distance that will soon be between us.

She couldn’t possibly still have feelings for Nick after what we went through together, could she? But I’m still not convinced, although I can’t shake the idea that she’s made progress. She’s more open. She’s more willing to be honest with me.

Maybe I should give us a chance.

I’m pushed out of my thoughts by Andre, who’s sitting next to me in the cab.

“You didn’t tell me how it went.”

“It was okay,” I say, shrugging. “Blaine is furious at me. Ben doesn’t seem to care. Her parents were nice with me. Her sisters-in-law too.”

He shakes his head, discouragement marking his features.

“I don’t give a fuck about what her family thinks. That’s not what I’m talking about, you know it.”

“She seemed fine. We talked a little. We’re on the right track, I think.”

I voluntarily avoid talking about the kiss. Somehow, I know he’d judge me for it, and with reason. Hell, I’m judging myself for it already.

“On the right track to what?”

“Being friends again.”

He only nods, not pushing the subject further, which relieves me a lot. I know the situation between us is a lot more complicated than what I’m letting on, and I’m not ready to try and explain it to him.

As I watch the landscape become the familiar sight of the airport, I sigh.

“I’m glad I made the trip,” I say, more for myself than for Andre. “I needed it.”

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as I’m back in Panama, we begin filming the movie. I’m ready for the long shooting days and whirlwind of emotions I have to convey on screen, as the story is quite dark and heavy to play. Most nights, after we wrap up, I have a drink with Claudia, and we spend the evening getting to know each other better.

I still haven’t told her a thing about Jen, despite the fact that we’re getting closer every day, and on our way to becoming very good friends. Most of the time, I listen to her, give her advice, or she’ll help me improve my Spanish skills.

Today, I’ll be shooting the first sex scene of my career. To be honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable, but I’m glad that I could make friends with Claudia so easily over the past few days. It should make the whole thing a little less awkward.

When I show up on set this morning, followed by Andre, the crew has obviously been hard at work already for a while, as the decor is almost ready, the equipment is all laid out, and Andrea – our director – is making the finishing touches to his plan for the scene. Claudia is waiting in a corner, sitting on a chair and sipping her cup of coffee. The white robe she’s wearing and the way her hair is styled, loose and a bit messy, hints that she’s already had her turn at the hair and make-up station, and is already wearing her costume underneath.

Well, her almost absence of costume.

She waves at me upon seeing me, and I answer her greeting by giving her a small smile. I make my way to the hair and make-up room and here begins the long process of covering up my tattoos, once again.

As another make-up artist works on my back, Thi Thanh Tu, the key make-up artist – whom we simply call “Tu” - does my torso and my wrist.

“I can’t believe my mom never managed to talk me out of getting these huge tattoos,” I whine, and Tu smiles.

“You look good with them though,” she winks.

“Yeah, but they’re a mess to cover.”

“It’s not that bad. You won’t have to cover them everyday.”

I nod, and sigh. An hour, an hour and a half passes without me noticing it. I think of texting Jen, but she has barely sent a message since we left Kentucky, so I figure she must be too busy with the preparation work for her next movie coming up. She hasn’t told me yet when she’s leaving for Montreal.

When the make-up artists declare the job over, I thank them and walk over to the dressing room. There, I’m greeted by Marylin, the costume designer, who hands me a small piece of fabric, before leaving me some privacy to get changed.

A thong.

That’s it. When the scene picks up, I’m already naked, so my costume is only meant to cover my private parts. I put it on and slip on the robe, before walking back to the room where we’ll film.

Andrea is giving instructions to Claudia, who’s sprawled out on the bed in front of me, fully naked but for black panties. I can’t help but check her out, admiring her curves, golden under the warm lighting, her round breasts, her soft hair resting on the pillow, and the sexy expression on her face.

She’s definitely attractive. And as much as I would like to pretend she’s having no effect on me, the tingles I feel in my groin would say otherwise.

I hope she doesn’t notice. That, would make things awkward between us.

Andrea turns to me and grins. I return his smile, trying to pretend that Claudia isn’t lying there on the bed, naked and waiting for me.

“Josh,” he says, walking to me. “You’re gonna take your place while we block the shot. I want you to lie here on top of Claudia.”

I nod, and climb on the bed. Claudia spreads her legs to welcome me in her arms, and I swallow thickly.

This is just acting. She’s just an actress.

I wish it were Jen lying beneath me instead.

I sigh, hoping that she doesn’t realize my unease, but she keeps staring at my face with a wicked smile.

“I never asked you,” I start, trying to break the tension. “Is this your first time?”

She raises an eyebrow. I chuckle.

“I mean, is this your first sex scene.”

“Yes. You?”

“Me too.”

I try to avoid touching her as much as I can, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, but I have no other choice. After a while, she starts running her hands down my back absent-mindedly, which makes me almost jump in surprise. She doesn’t seem to realize that she’s doing it, as her face is focused on Andrea, who’s making sure the set-up is perfect for what he has in mind. We then rehearse a few times, keeping the moves to a minimum, with the crew making the necessary adjustments to the camera angles and lighting.

After what feels like hours, we start filming actual takes. I attempt to lose myself in my character, try to forget that we’re surrounded by several people who will witness me pretending to have sex with Claudia, and start fake thrusting and leaving empty kisses on her skin. She moans in response, and although I know everything is fake, I can’t control my body’s reactions to the sight of her acting out the scene and the sounds of pleasure she makes. She’s a good actress.

When the director finally yells “cut”, I’m thankful for the relief. Claudia smiles at me.

“You’re really good. You must be very good in bed.”

I smile shyly.

“Thanks. I guess so. You were good too, by the way.”

“I know. I feel it.”

She winks, and I feel my cheeks get red with embarrassment. Andrea joins us.

“That was great, you two! Keep doing it that way, we’ll do some more takes with different angles. Don’t be shy of improvising or changing things on the spot. I want it to look natural. Those guys are madly in love with each other. It should be passionate.”

“Alright,” I nod.

We end up shooting a few more takes, experimenting with different actions, improvising to try to make it appear more realistic. At one point – I’ve lost the count of takes – Andrea walks over to us after having examined the images on his little portable screen for quite a long time, shaking his head ever so slightly, looking slightly discouraged.

“You’re doing great,” he lets out, sitting on a chair next to the bed, his gaze flicking between the both of us. “But there’s something missing. It still looks too mechanical. You guys have great chemistry, but for some reason, it doesn’t show in the footage. Think you can add a little more passion to it?”

I exchange a look with Claudia, who’s smiling brightly. Then, I turn to Andrea.

“Yeah, sure.”

As I get back into place, I close my eyes and try to imagine that instead of the Spanish beauty pretending to writhe beneath me, there’s a blonde-turned-Katniss-brunette from Kentucky, whose body I know inside and out, crying out for me and screaming my name in ecstasy. As I lose myself in the fantasy, I pepper her neck with kisses, blow air on her skin, run my hands in the soft locks resting on her pillow. She moans loudly, but I barely pay attention to the tone of her voice. Instead, I groan, and increase the speed of my thrusts.

My fake thrusts.

I open my eyes just as Andrea says “cut”, and find myself disappointingly staring into the dark eyes of Claudia, rather than Jen’s blue pools. I sigh and look away, ignoring my erection despite the obvious ache I feel with it straining my underwear.

“I’m gonna check the footage but I think this one was much, much better,” he says. “I don’t know how you got in the zone, Josh, but keep doing it.”

I nod, but inside, I’m distraught. Claudia picks up on my discomfort and runs a hand down my cheek.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a soft, concerned voice.

“Yes. Thank you.”

I can’t possibly tell her that I can only go through that scene if I pretend I’m doing it with someone else.

I shift on my knees to make sure my hardened cock isn’t brushing on her lower body. I can very well imagine she has noticed, but she doesn’t act like she’s upset by it, which relieves me. Still, I’m not comfortable touching her that way.

Acting or not.

When we’re finally ready to start again, I attempt the same trick, with quite the same results. Andrea is quickly satisfied with the images we’ve provided him, so he finally clears us for the rest of the morning. I slide off Claudia’s body, trying as best as I can to conceal my bulging member. Fortunately, Andre is right there, holding my robe for me. I quickly put it on and tie it around my waist, taking a quick look around to make sure no one paid attention to me.

Usually, I would have looked at the images and taken the time to chat with the director over it – I’m trying to learn as much as I can as I need that experience if I want to become a filmmaker myself one day – but this time, what I’m craving is intimacy. Andre knows me well enough to figure out what I need, and so he leads me to my dressing room, where I lock myself in.

Alone. Finally.

Alone with my thoughts and a pressing erection that I absolutely need to relieve. Now.

After I make sure there’s a box of tissues close to me, I remove the “costume” I was wearing on set and finally free my throbbing cock. I start stroking it gently at first, trying to imagine Jen’s soft, chubby fingers running along the length of it, her thumb brushing the tip with each passage. I let out a soft groan, and lean against the wall as the pleasure starts to overwhelm me. My grip over my cock hardens, and I pick up some pace as my mind gets swarming with images of Jen, her perfect body riding me on the couch, or me pounding into her glorious ass in my shower at home, or her plump lips sucking on my flesh until I can’t stand it anymore.

I feel myself getting closer to the edge, and I picture her hooded eyes staring at me, imagine her arms holding onto my neck tightly, and pretend to hear her voice whispering soft words in my ear.

“ _I love you so much, Josh.”_

As I grab a tissue and empty myself in it, I feel a tear roll down my cheek and fall on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that Joshifer is endgame. :)

**Jennifer’s POV**

“ You chop it off. All of it.”

“You’re kidding me?”

Mark - my hairstylist - stares at me in disbelief as I gesture for him to cut my hair. Short. The back-and-forth dyeing job finally ruined it, and it’s gonna be much easier to deal with the split ends and damaged locks if I just let them grow back.

But he - the specialist - is having none of it.

“It’s a huge change, I’m not sure you’ll like it...” he drags out, playing with my blonde hair, his face showing evident concern at the poor condition of it anyway. “It’ll be a long way back if you don’t like it.”

I sigh dramatically.

“Okay then. Shoulder-length. Please?”

I give him my best grin, and he finally nods, resigned.

“Alright. Let’s see how you look like with short hair.”

“I’m sure you’ll do a great job,” I say, sitting down on the chair while he gathers his tools for the haircut. I’m not sad at all. Actually, I’m pretty excited. I haven’t had short hair since childhood.

I was ready for a change.

And a big change, it is. When he’s done, I run a hand through my short locks, a huge satisfied grin lighting up my whole face.

“That’s what you wanted?” he asks, returning my smile in the mirror.

“Yes! I love it! Thank you!” I let out, my voice laced with excitement. “ Come on,” I add, handing him my phone. “Take a pic, I wanna send it to... someone.”

“To Josh?” he winks.

I shake my head, looking down to hide my blush.

“Come on. Do it.”

I stare at the phone, trying to force a smile that looks as natural as possible – which is no easy task, as my expression always seems somewhat strained on pictures. Mark snaps the picture and grins at the result.

“It’s perfect, look.” He shows me the phone, and I nod. “Ready to put on your dress?”

“Yep. Just let me send the picture.”

“Send it to me too, okay? I wanna put it on my Insta.”

“Okay.”

I take my phone back and stare at my photo for a moment. I like the haircut, but I’m not really digging my face. As usual, there’s something unnatural in my smile, and no real glint in my eyes. Either way, this is the picture I will have to send, so I shrug it off, send it to Mark’s number, and do the same with Josh’s, adding a message to it.

JENNIFER: Do you still recognize me?

It suddenly hits me that I haven’t texted him or had any contact with him for the past week, as I was spending some rare time with my family in Kentucky before flying home to Santa Monica for a few days. I went shopping with friends, and enjoyed myself so much, I barely had time to think about him.

Oh, man.

I bite my lip as I anxiously await his answer.

JOSH: You’re gorgeous. Even if you went bald I’d recognize you anywhere. There’s something in your eyes. Love the new hair.

A warm sensation that I had missed like crazy these last few weeks spreads throughout my body as I take in his words. I type back an answer, holding back the urge to remind him I love him.

JENNIFER: Thank you. I’m glad you like it.

Before I send the message though, I decide to address what’s bothering me.

JENNIFER: I’m sorry for not calling this week.

His answer hits me right in the gut.

JOSH: It’s okay. I’ve been very busy anyway. Filming, and getting to know the cast and crew here.

The cast and crew. Translation: his stunning, exotic-dark-haired beauty co-star.

I shake off my thoughts, realizing that I can’t do anything about it. If he’s going to fall for her, then I have to let him. Even if it breaks my heart even further. I want to get him back, but most of all, I want him to be happy. And as much as it hurts me, if his happiness lies with her, then so be it.

The little voice at the back of my head tells me that he’d be happier with me though. But I have to let him take that decision by himself.

I’m quick to answer him, before I can change my mind.

JENNIFER: Great. Skype session tomorrow? I have to attend the GLAAD awards tonight. I would do it after, but it’ll be too late where you are.

JOSH: Ok.

I wait for more, but he never adds anything. Disappointed, I look up and see Rachel - my stylist -waiting for me with the dress draped over her arm. After one last look at my phone, I shake my head and walk up to her to get ready for the night.

 

* * *

 

 

My hearts pounds in my chest as I wait for the program to finish loading. When I can finally initiate the call and see Josh’s smiling face staring back at me, the nervousness dwindles and I find myself returning his smile shyly, butterflies invading my stomach as if I was seeing him for the first time.

It’s crazy, the effect this man has on me.

“Hi Jen,” he says, blowing me a kiss.

“Hi Josh,” I say softly, the sight of his beautiful, perfect face making me spiral into a mix of emotions, ranging from relief, to admiration, to deep affection.

“Had a nice night at the GLAAD?”

“You have no idea. I think Harvey forgave me for forgetting to thank him at the Oscars,” I look down, smiling.

“Oh, how so?”

I look up and shrug.

“I don’t know. He didn’t leave my side all night. Looked pretty happy to be there, actually.”

I don’t even have to explain in what way his happiness manifested itself. Josh’s slightly disgusted face makes it clear that he’s figured it out.

“Sounds creepy.”

“Not that much.”

I bite my lip. I can’t tell him that he’s right. The truth is that I felt his hungry stare on me all night, his intimidating presence lurking behind me everywhere I walked in that room. At least, after that, he should leave me alone for a while as he’s not involved with my last movie with David. And of course, neither is he with my two franchises.

Josh finally gives me a little smile.

“Okay. If you say so.” He shrugs. It’s only then that I notice the bags under his eyes.

“You look tired,” I remark.

“You know how it is. Long days,” he sighs.

I wonder what he does after his filming days are over. I imagine him taking advantage of the lower legal age in Panama to go out in the bars and have a drink with his coworkers. Or hanging out in a night club, practicing the dancing moves he’s already so good at.

Maybe he’s getting to know his co-star even better, possibly in the comfort of his – or her – hotel room.

The idea makes my heart tighten painfully in my chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his face setting in a frown.

I realize my thoughts must be visible on my face. I shrug my shoulders, trying to make it seem as if it’s not important.

Of course, it’s not. He can do whatever he wants. I’m not his girlfriend.

“Yeah, sure.”

I muster a big smile to try and hide my unease. It seems to work, because he finally brushes it off.

Before unknowingly confirming my suspicions.

“The cast and crew are all nice,” he says. “I have a Spanish coach, but Claudia makes me practice almost every night.”

Claudia. The sound of her name on his lips makes me turn red.

“I go out with everybody, and Andrea lets me get involved in directing...”

I don’t pay any more attention to what he says. My eyes are focused on his face, but I hear him as if he was speaking a foreign language. His voice is drowned by the pounding sound of my heart beating faster. I can’t get over what he said – he’s spending almost every night with her.

With Claudia.

I try to breathe deeply, but I feel like I’m suffocating. Somehow, even if I don’t really know what she looks like, I picture her, sitting on a couch next to him, her thighs pressed against his, her face inches to his as she slowly utters Spanish words that he carefully repeats with a smitten grin.

And then, I imagine her pulling him to her, forcing him to lean over her perfect body, bringing his lips to hers. She’d hook her legs around his torso to pull him even closer, and they’d make out until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

And then he’d take her right there on that sofa, savouring the pleasure of ramming into her round ass all night long.

No wonder he’s looking so tired. I want to vomit.

“Jen?”

He throws me out of my daydream in an instant and I notice that my cheeks are damp and I’m slightly shaking. I finally make out Josh’s concerned expression on the screen, and realize I don’t remember anything from what he’s told me in the past few minutes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in that low voice of his that sends another surge of pain throughout my body.

“Nothing.”

But I need to wipe the tears that fall down my cheeks, so I can’t really hide my pain from him.

“No, there’s something, you just don’t wanna tell me.”

I stare at his lovely, inquisitive face, and shake my head. Despite the exhaustion, he seems so much happier now that he’s with her than he ever could have been with me. For his own happiness, I need to learn to let him go. So I can’t possibly tell him why I’m upset – he’d feel guilty about it and it won’t be good at all.

“I’m okay. I’m just tired, I guess. I should go to sleep. I’ll talk to you soon?”

He looks disappointed for a moment, before nodding slowly, letting out a sigh.

“Okay. Soon.”

There’s a pause.

“I really miss you, Jen,” he says. And then he brings a hand over his heart.

I give him a sad smile.

“I miss you too.”

 

* * *

 

 

My parents visit me in Santa Monica over the following week, and so I don’t have time to dwell on what Josh must be doing with his co-star in Panama. Instead, they sit me down to talk about my future, discuss the projects I have on the table for when I’m done filming _Mockingjay_ next year – strongly advising me to take some time to rest, for once, before jumping into another project right away - and hint that I should start looking for another place somewhere in the LA area as the paparazzi are all too aware of where I live right now, and it would be nice to escape them before my life turns into an even bigger circus – as if it was even possible.

I’m the one who proposes Josh’s neighborhood. To my biggest surprise, they both agree that it’s probably the best place for me to settle down. But when they suggest that I should start considering buying my own house instead of renting one, I’m the one who strongly disapproves the idea.

I tell them it’s because I don’t feel mature enough to handle the responsibility. But the real reason is completely different, and I don’t think they have it figured out.

I’m still holding out hope, deep inside, that I could eventually move in with Josh. I know that it’s highly unlikely, what with that cozy co-star of his and all, but I can’t help myself. Can’t kill the flicker of hope inside me, that he might change his mind sooner rather than later, and be willing to give us another chance.

I’m so pathetic.

The day of Nick’s return to LA arrives without me even realizing it. I only remember our scheduled dinner when he texts me the day before, reminding me of the plans we had made the day I called him back when I was in Kentucky.

NICK: Still having dinner tomorrow?

I sigh, and reply as coldly as I can.

JEN: Yes. I’ll pick you up at 7. Same hotel as usual?

NICK: Yes. I’ll be waiting for you.

I don’t waste time and look up the restaurant’s number, which I call to not only make a reservation – asking for the most private room in the place – but also to request permission to use their back entrance, which is meant to be used by their employees only. They’re happy to oblige, and I let out a breath of relief after I hang up.

At least, I won’t have to bother with the paps this time. It’s already making this dinner easier to swallow, as I’m not in the mood at all to spend time with Nick, on top of my usual anxiety at going out. I can’t wait for this night to be over, hell, for this movie – which I haven’t even started working on yet – to be done with.

The ride to his hotel is uneventful. I put the radio on, trying to focus on the music to avoid letting my thoughts drift to Josh once again. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m betraying him with that dinner. Even though there’s nothing between Nick and me anymore, he’s still the major reason I was so confused for so long and had so much trouble committing to Josh. And I know he was upset the other day in Louisville when he figured out I had called him.

But then, I remember his passing comment about spending nights with his co-star and the guilt flies away instantly. Anyway, I’m not his girlfriend. I can do whatever I want – or in this case, need – without having to feel guilty towards him.

I wish I still had a reason to feel guilty though.

When I stop in front of the building, he quickly makes his way to the car and slides onto the passenger seat.

“Hi,” he says with a large smile. I observe him for a moment, trying to figure out if he’s having any effect on me. I’m relieved to realize that I’m indifferent, even when he leans in to casually kiss my cheeks.

“Hi,” I reply on a neutral tone. He doesn’t react, only buckling his seatbelt. I back out of the parking lot and begin the drive to the restaurant.

There seems to be some coldness between us still. At first, I force myself to try and find something to say, but I quickly give up when I realize that I just don’t give a fuck. It’s not my own responsibility to entertain the conversation, after all. Nick isn’t making any effort. His attention is solely focused on his cell phone, which he uses to text someone, his fingers running on the screen.

So it’s better that way.

“I brought your book back,” I finally say, my eyes not leaving the road as I engage into the street leading to the restaurant.

“Which book?”

“The last one you lent me. It’s on the back seat.”

He twists around and nods when he sees it.

“Oh. Thanks. I bought you one too. You’ll check it out when we’re there.”

“Okay.”

There’s no more small talk after this. Nick goes back to his phone; I go back to thinking about Josh. I wonder what he’s doing right now. He’s probably sleeping.

Maybe with his sexy co-star snuggled in his arms.

I shake my head discreetly and get into the inside parking lot of the restaurant, driving the car right next to the back door entrance. As I had hoped and expected, there are no paps waiting for us in the parking. Great.

I take a look at my phone and see we’re right on time, so I get out of the car and Nick follows me, finally paying some attention to me. As soon as we’re inside, an employee leads us to a large private room, still surrounded by tall windows but quiet enough for our needs. The dim lighting, comfy furniture and traditional decoration make it a little bit too romantic for my taste, though. But I don’t complain. He knows this is in no way a date.

Despite the candles on the table and the red tablecloth under the silverware already laid out on it.

I sit carefully in front of him, avoiding his stare as much as I can. I’m thankful for the excuse to look away when the waiter brings us the menu cards.

“Would you like to have a drink?” the waiter asks.

“Only some water, please,” I reply, and I immediately feel Nick’s wide eyes on me. “What? I’m driving.”

“I didn’t say anything!” he chuckles, lifting his hands above his head as if to claim his innocence. “I’ll take a glass of red wine, please.”

He knows he’s tempting me. But I know it wouldn’t be a good idea to drink at this point. I intend to stay here as little as possible. We take care of our business, and then we go. Easy.

I don’t say another word while I pick my order, and Nick quickly puts his attention back to his phone. Once the waiter comes back with our drinks and writes down our order though, he’s forced to put the phone down for a while as we need to address the reason of our meeting.

I take a gulp of water, while staring at him uncomfortably.

“I’m glad you invited me,” he starts. “I know you won’t believe it, but I miss you a lot.”

“Why wouldn’t I believe it? Of course you’d miss me, everyone would, I’m so funny,” I joke lamely, but I see in his eyes that he’s serious.

“It’s true, Jen. I... I regret what I did last year. I shouldn’t have pressured you into moving in with me. I think about it every day.”

He stares down sadly, and lowers his voice.

“I need to confess something to you.”

I look up and frown. He takes a sip of wine before continuing to talk.

“I was foolishly hoping that by moving with me to London, your career would slow down a little bit. I was freaking out because of the way your career just launched so quickly, and I couldn’t keep up. It’s lame, I know. But it’s the truth. And I’m a coward, I know. There’s nothing wrong with you being more successful than me, right?" He pauses, shrugging. “I don’t even know why it was such an issue for me. Maybe because I’m not used to being papped. I’m so uncomfortable with being in the media. But with your fame rising up, I had to adjust, and it was much harder than I expected. I wasn’t comfortable with giving up my privacy like that. But now, I’ve thought about it, and I’m ready to make some sacrifices. For you.”

My breath catches in my throat. For some reason, I feel a sudden churn in my stomach at his words. Was I too harsh with him last year? It’s true that I put him in a hard situation, because of the fame that came with _The Hunger Games_. It was unfair of me to expect him to adjust so easily, to put his own career behind for the sake of mine.

The truth is that I owed him so much more than the poor way I treated him.

“I’m ready to take on fewer projects,” he adds, tentatively grabbing my hand on the table. I stare at our entwined fingers, without making any move to let go. “I’ll follow you on location more often so we can spend more time together. I don’t... damn, I don’t ever want to feel like we’re strangers anymore.” He pauses. “Two years, Jen... two years that we were happy... We can make an effort. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

I didn’t expect to be so moved by his speech. But then, I think about Josh and the little sympathy I had for Nick seems to falter a little. I’m still resolved to gain Josh’s trust and love back. He’s the one I love and want to be with.

But what if he doesn’t ever want me back? What if I could be happy with Nick instead? Am I making another mistake by pushing him away?

I shake my head, trying to will the confusion away.

“I don’t know. It’s too soon.”

“It’s been six months, Jen...”

And a lot happened in those six months. But I don’t want to share that with him. This belongs to Josh and me. Even if he never wants us back together.

I sigh.

“Give me time. It’s the best I can do.”

And the best answer I can give him on the spot. I’m not in the mood to argue.

 

* * *

 

 

There’s a heavy cloud looming above us for the rest of the meal. We both eat in silence, him glancing at his phone every once in a while as I will the image of Josh to disappear from my mind. I know I don’t owe him anything anymore, but my confusion only adds to my guilt towards him. I wish I could just push Nick away, reject his proposition straight away, but for some reason, I just can’t.

More than the blame I place upon myself for what led to my decision to break up with him back then, the nagging impression that my answer to his question will determine if we can go back to our old camaraderie weighs heavily on my mind. What will happen if I reject him right away? Will he still be mad at me? Will it ruin whatever chance we had of being friends again?

I know I’ve got to be careful. For once, I want to do the right thing. And for that, I need to get over my tendency to act in an impulsive manner and rather take the time to think it over.

As soon as the dinner is over, we don’t waste time in making our way back to the rear door, both eager to escape the uncomfortable tension that followed his confession. We haven’t even pushed the door yet when I spot a wall of photographers loitering around my car. I stop dead in my tracks, my breathing getting quicker and my mouth drying out all of a sudden.

“Are you ok?” Nick asks nonchalantly.

Slowly, I bob my head up and down, and then I take a deep breath before leading him into the night, looking down. Instantly, we’re assaulted by continuous white flashes as the paps snap their pictures and yell at us.

“Hey, Jennifer! Look over here!”

“Are you guys back together?”

“Was it a romantic dinner?”

“Is it true that you cheated on him?”

“Hey, you, bitch! I’m talking to you!”

“When are you-“

I don’t hear him finish his sentence as I climb into the car and start the engine, willing their words to vanish from my memory. Nick gets in, looking slightly upset, but he doesn’t say a word, and neither do I.

I don’t understand how they found us. Was it the staff? They seemed trustworthy, though. Did they follow us on our way in? Maybe.

Either way, I’m mad. I’ll need to have a serious talk with my publicist as soon as I get back home.

 

* * *

 

 

**Josh’s POV**

The more days that pass, the more I realize I’m missing her like crazy.

We don’t speak over Skype anymore, as I’m busy filming for long days at a time and when I wrap, I’m too worn out to do anything other than sleep. She doesn’t really seek me out either, so I assume she’s also busy on her side, possibly with planning her imminent move. I get used to live with the longing, and rely on a lone text here and there to keep the hope alive.

That is, until I find myself sitting at a table in a restaurant with some of the cast and crew, and Andre throws me a sorry look that has me frowning.

“Did you see this?” he asks, handing me his phone. When I see the pictures, my heart stops.

I knew it was coming ever since I figured out that she had called him, a couple of weeks ago when we were together at her parents’ house. I shouldn’t be surprised that it actually happened.

But I never expected to see it in pictures. There, in a series of pap shots, is the story of a dinner Jen had at a restaurant with Nick.

I know I have no more claim on her. It was my decision to end whatever could have existed between us. I know I shouldn’t feel so betrayed to see her next to him. She doesn’t even look particularly happy – but it’s probably just because there’s nothing in life she hates more than being photographed by the paps.

But it stings anyway. Still, I try to brush it off, more or less convincingly.

“It’s nothing, Andre,” I say, handing him back his phone. “I knew she was planning it. She needed to make up with him because they’re gonna film a movie together soon. Anyway, she’s free to do as she pleases, you know.”

“But it’s hurting you.”

“My problem. Not hers. But like I said, it was just a friendly dinner, nothing more.”

“Are you sure?”

I look up at him, and take in his sad look. I frown.

“Yes, of course, why?”

“Nothing, it’s just...” he bites his lip and takes a look at the phone. “There’s an article with the pics. Apparently someone saw them inside the restaurant. They were...”

My heart races in my chest as I finish the sentence in my head. Not already? Could she have forgotten me so soon? After she kissed me again just two weeks ago, and pledged that she wouldn’t give up on me?

“Kissing?” I try, looking down.

“No. Of course not. They said they looked like they were flirting or something.”

I chuckle darkly.

“Yeah. That’s my Jen. She acts cozy with everyone she loves.”

“You think she still loves him?”

I shrug.

“I don’t know. But he’s the one she took to a public dinner. He’s the one she dated openly for two years. That means something.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Sorry, man.”

“It’s okay.”

When the waiter passes by, I stop him and order a scotch.

 

* * *

 

 

At night, when I get back into my hotel room, I consider for a split second calling Jen or sending her a message to let her know that I’m aware of her “date” with her ex, but I realize soon enough that it would make me an asshole and so I kill the idea as soon as it hit me. Instead, I take advantage of my being legal to drink here and make a raid into the mini-bar, downing almost every little bottle of liquor in sight until I start to feel dizzy and I’m forced to lie down on my bed, the tears prickling at the corner of my eyes.

It eventually numbs the ache, at least. I end up sleeping like a rock, totally missing the sound of my alarm clock the next morning. Instead, I’m woken up by Andre, who storms in my room and shakes me up until I have no other choice but to get up. I rub my eyes hard, suddenly feeling the sharp pain of the headache pounding in my brain.

“Oh, fuck...” I mutter, burying my face in the pillow to try and kill the throbbing in my skull.

“You’re late, Josh,” Andre says on his most disapproving tone. I guess I am. It never happens, usually.

There’s a start for everything.

“Just give me time to wake up... ugh, my head is killing me.”

I make an effort to lift it off the pillow and sit straight on the bed, running my hand on my face to will the sleepiness away. I don’t dare taking a look at Andre’s likely judging face.

“Here,” he says, and I finally glance at him, taking in the open hand he’s tending to me, and in which rest a couple of painkiller pills.

“How did you know?” I ask as he goes to the bathroom to fetch me a glass of water. I force myself to stand up, feeling ashamed of being served by my best friend – even though he’s also my personal assistant. I’m not hiring him to baby me. He doesn’t have to pay for the consequences of my late night binge drinking attempt.

He comes back quickly and hands me the glass, which I gulp down all in one sitting along with the pills.

“I knew at dinner that you were upset about the news. And when I saw that you didn’t answer your phone last night... I had a feeling you might have tried to drink it off.”

I shrug.

“It didn’t even work, so I’m not gonna try it again,” I reply, putting the glass back on the desk and digging into the drawer for jeans and a t-shirt.

“Josh? Can I say something?”

I look up at him and frown.

“Of course. You’re my friend, you can say anything.”

He bites his lip.

“I think... I think you can’t really be mad at her for moving on. Not after what you did to her when we came back from Hawaii.”

I close the drawer and stand there motionless for a moment. The pain in my chest hurts even more than the headache, because I know he’s right. I know I’m paying the price for my decision. I’m the one who pushed her away; it wouldn’t be fair of me to expect her to want me again.

But Andre doesn’t know much about the Louisville trip. He doesn’t know about the multiple Skype rendez-vous.

He doesn’t know about the kiss, and the whispered promises.

Maybe if he did, he’d understand why it hurts, and why I didn’t see it coming.

But for some reason, I don’t feel comfortable pouring out the details to him. Which is strange, because I haven’t kept much hidden from him over the years. And especially where it comes to Jennifer. He’s always been my confident, my go-to advice giver.

“I’m not mad at her,” I finally let out in a low voice. Which is true. If anything, I’m mad at myself. “Look, Andre, there’s a lot of things that have been upsetting me these days. Let’s just say it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

He nods.

“I needed it last night,” I add. “It was too much. I’m gonna be okay now, don’t worry about that.”

I try to sound as convincing as I can, but I know instantly that my best friend is having none of my shit. But he knows better than to push my buttons, so instead, he just shrugs his shoulders and grabs his bag for the day as I head for the bathroom.

“If you want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next couple of days, work provides me with another distraction from Jen and her obvious attempt at moving on from me. I also stop dwelling on my parents’ divorce for a moment, diving head first into the movie. We basically shoot from sunrise until way past sunset, and whenever I’m not required to rehearse a scene or act in front of the camera, I sneak into Andrea’s station, trying to get as much information about his ways as a director as I can. Benicio, who likes to get particularly involved in the directing of the movies he plays in, usually joins me enthusiastically in my sharing of my thoughts about the movie.

I only catch Claudia strangely observing me from afar a few times, until one evening, just before wrap time, she gives up on staying away and approaches me bluntly.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks, grabbing me by the arm to pull me into a more sheltered location. I follow her without a word.

“Look, Josh, I don’t know you a lot,” she starts. “But you’re different from how you were at the beginning. I don’t know what happened, but you look like there is something in your mind. Am I right?”

I pinch my lips in a straight line and look away. She’s probably one of the last people I would wish to confide in right now.

“Sorry,” she adds, looking down sheepishly. “It’s not of my business-“

“No. It’s okay,” I reply with a sigh. “You’re right. I’ll get over it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Right now?” I ask dumbly, looking around at the crew almost ready for the next scene we’re filming today before wrapping.

“No, after. Later tonight.”

“Oh.” I mull it over quickly. What’s the harm, anyway? She barely knows me, after all. She’s less likely to judge me than Andre. “Okay. Sure.”

She gives me a large smile, before grabbing my arm to pull me back on set.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, what is it?”

She’s sitting on the couch in my hotel room, a glass of sangria in her hand. I pour myself some whisky, which I down quickly, letting the familiar burning sensation warm up my whole body before pouring myself another one. I’m not so sure anymore it was a good idea, as I don’t really feel at ease with telling her all the ways I fucked up with my ex- _almost_ -girlfriend. Claudia is still little more than a stranger to me. It would be weird to tell her all this stuff.

But tonight, for the first time since we became friends, I begin to truly pay attention to her. My dazed eyes land on her crossed legs - bare and smooth under her short skirt - roaming up her nice curves until they reach the top of her shirt, which she’s left partially unbuttoned as to subtly expose the outline of her plump breasts. I take in her encouraging smile, and something unexpectedly stirs in me. For the first time in weeks, seeing her there, with her dark eyes and long hair framing her pretty face, is making me feel something pleasant.

I take another swig of liquor before walking to the couch, crashing on it just close enough to her that our thighs are brushing against each other. I look up, finding her staring at me expectantly.

“Well... I broke up with my girlfriend just before flying here,” I let out, before running a hand over my face to hide my shame. I can’t stand to look at her while I keep pouring my heart out. “Basically, I was such an asshole about it. She wasn’t even my girlfriend officially, but I was acting like she was.”

I pause, staring at the wall for a moment.

“I love her so much. But she still loved her ex-boyfriend. And I just found out that she’s back with him.”

Saying it out loud brings tears to my eyes that I don’t want to let drop in front of her, so I shut them tight and pinch the bridge of my nose, before lifting my glass to my lips and downing the contents in one sitting. I cough a little as it falls down my throat, before getting up and making myself another one.

“Josh...” she says as I turn to her. “Don’t you think it’s enough?”

Her eyes are set on the tumbler in my hand. I clench my jaw at her insinuation, and she quickly notices my irritation.

“Sorry, it’s not to me to tell you that,” she adds apologetically.

“Yeah, damn right it’s not,” I mutter, avoiding her gaze and sitting a little further from her on the couch.

“Really, I’m sorry,” she adds, scooting closer to me, before tentatively putting a hand on my shoulder. Somehow, despite my slight anger at her, I enjoy her touch. I’ve missed being comforted.

“It’s okay.”

I finally look up at her, and the sad smile on her face makes my remaining anger wane. She caresses my shoulder as she speaks.

“And I’m sorry it ended like that. Even if it was your decision, it doesn’t look like you wanted to break up.”

I chuckle sadly, shaking my head while staring at the carpet floor.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to let her go. But it was better that way.” I stare up into her eyes. “I was right all along, you know? She wasn’t over her ex. Who was I to keep her away from him?”

“Sounds like she used you to forget him or something.”

“I don’t know. I think she had feelings for me too. She was confused. But she wasn’t ready to let him go. Me... I guess she was.”

I look back down while the memory of her sweet lips moving against mine, the cold Kentuckian air around us making us freeze in place, rushes back into my mind. Her words echo in my head, piercing my heart at the same time. “ _I still love you. I always will. I need you to remember that.”_

All I can remember now is that she doesn’t love me the same way I love her and that it didn’t take her long to fall back into her ex’s arms. Clearly, those words meant nothing to her.

I down my drink. I don’t even feel the burn anymore. I’m empty.

“You deserve better than that.”

Slowly, her hand slides up my neck, making me feel goosebumps in response, before her thumb starts caressing my cheek ever so softly. I swallow down thickly, her insistent gaze on me making me uncomfortable.

I’m not ready for this.

“Claudia...” I start on a sad tone, and she gets the message without me having to explain it, as she quickly yanks her hand away from my face and looks down with a simple nod.

“It’s okay, Josh. I understand.”

I give her a small smile.

“Thank you.”

I stare at my empty glass for a while, debating with myself if I should fill it up again. I’m starting to feel nauseated, and as I glance at Claudia’s sweet lips resting teasingly on the side of her glass while she takes a slow sip of her sangria, I figure it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I don’t want to end up using her just to forget Jen.

She deserves better than that too.

 

* * *

 

 

I expect things to be awkward between Claudia and me the next morning, but thankfully, she acts as if nothing happened. And in a way, it’s true that nothing happened. She listened to me going on a drunken rant about my past relationship issues, tried to comfort me as best as she could, and it ended there. She probably didn’t feel the strong sexual tension that was making my insides turn and caused an unwelcome boner – tension that I tried to relieve once she left my hotel room, but that I was too drunk and tired to let go. I ended up falling into a deep slumber on my bed, not even taking the time to slip under the covers.

Getting to work tired and hung over is quickly becoming a habit, but as soon as I get my mind on the movie, my mood dramatically improves and I forget everything.

And for some reason, my body follows. Despite the long, exhausting shooting days, adrenaline kicks in quickly and I still manage to perform relatively easily.

At night, though, all the pent up frustration comes back all at once and I lock myself up in my hotel room after dinner, either drinking until I can’t think straight anymore or, on nights when I don’t want to feel miserable, smoking weed until I can relax enough to empty my mind of all the nasty thoughts that are plaguing it.

One evening, as I’m lazing out on my private balcony, savouring the taste of the joint between my lips while staring distractedly at the beach far away in the distance, the buzzing sound of my phone vibrating on the glass table in front of me almost makes me jump. I stretch my arm to grab it and sigh.

ANDRE: Can I come in?

I’m glad that he asked first, though there’s – almost – nothing I do these days that I would care to hide to him. When I’m not working, I spend all my time doing nothing, dwelling on how I drove my parents apart and longing for Jen – though I seek comfort in the thought that at least, I pushed her away before I had a chance to ruin her life completely.

JOSH: Yeah sure. Balcony.

I put the phone back on the table, close my eyes and count to three in my head before I faintly hear the sound of the connecting door between our two rooms opening and I make out his silhouette next to the patio door as he joins me outside in the dark of the night.

“Wanna share?”

I open my eyes and look up at him, before handing him the blunt with a sigh. He takes a large puff, before dropping onto the chair next to mine. He doesn’t say a word for a while, simply staring at me with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?” I finally ask, looking away, annoyed.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t give a fuck if you judge me,” I add, closing my eyes again to avoid his stare. “It’s good stuff, I’m doing my job, no one has any reason to complain about me.”

“I haven’t said anything, bud,” he says with a soft voice.

“No, but I know you well enough to know that you’re thinking it.”

“Maybe because you know that you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.”

“Oh yeah,” I snort. “There are bad reasons to have fun, now?”

He sighs and hands me the joint back. I take a long puff.

“You know as well as I do Josh that you’re not doing this just to have fun.”

“Come on.” I point at the joint. “It’s nothing. Not even enough to get stoned. It’s gonna pass. So, what do you want?”

I make an effort to sit straighter, resting my wrists on the table. I dare to look at him, and find him pinching his lips in a straight line.

“I just spoke with your mom on the phone. She wants to visit you here for Mother’s Day.”

Mother’s Day. I frown, trying to remember which day of the week we are and which day is Mother’s Day.

“Next Sunday, Josh.”

“Oh.”

“So you’ve got a little less than a week to get your shit together.”

I sigh and look down. I know that, all too well. If she sees me acting like that, practically emptying the mini-bar every other day, going through my small stack of pot at lightning speed, or generally wallowing in misery, she’ll give me a lecture. And I’m not in the mood for that, not at all.

“Hey,” Andre says in a low voice, and I look up at him in confusion. “When’s the last time you’ve spoken to her?”

“Who? My mom?”

He chuckles.

“No, of course not. You know who.”

I shrug before taking one last puff of what remains of the joint between my fingers and crushing it in the ashtray.

“Two weeks? Three weeks? I don’t know. Last time we Skyped she had just got her hair cut. And then she sent me a text, saying that she was looking to rent a house in my neighborhood and that she wished I was there to give her real estate advice.” I finally allow myself to smile a little, remembering her words. “ _I’m such a baby, Josh, please come visit them with me!”_

I think to myself, “ _maybe she should visit them with her likely-to-be-future-roommate instead._ ” It’d be much more relevant than going with me. It’s not as if we’ll ever live together anyway. But her insistence that she wished she could share that experience with me had made me warm at the time.

That was before I learned about her newfound love.

“And you haven’t reached out to her again?”

“No... Especially not after that article you showed me. Last thing she needs is to deal with my jealousy.”

Because yes, I admit it, I’m jealous. I guess that, too, will pass, along with the pang of regret I feel every time I allow myself to think about what could have been – and it happens pretty much every day. I just need time.

And booze.

And pot.

For some reason, the now familiar image of Claudia sitting on my couch pops back in my head.

“Come on, Josh, deal with your shit!” he says, getting up to let his frustration out. “Make a man of yourself! You’ll never make that friendship work if you ignore her...”

He has a point. Though it goes both ways. She didn’t exactly try to reach for me either. I run my hand on my face, trying to clear my thoughts, and finally nod, stretching out to grab my phone on the table.

“Okay.”

I decide to go for a call right away instead of texting, so that I can get it over with without having to wait for her reply. But after I put the phone to my ear, hear the first few rings and realize she isn’t going to answer, I sigh.

I don’t even give it time to go to voicemail before I hang up, staring at the time displayed on the screen.

11:23pm. Which means it’s just 9:23pm in LA. There’s no reason for her not to answer.

Unless...

I look up at Andre and shake my head.

“Never mind,” I say, walking back inside to my bedroom and taking my shirt off so I can go to sleep.

“Josh...” he follows me, shutting the patio door behind him. “It’s probably not what you think...”

“What else could it be?”

“Are you sure she’s still in LA? Maybe she’s already in Montreal. That would mean it’d be past midnight there. She’d probably be in bed...”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing Andre, she’d be in bed, but she’d still answer.”

Unless she wasn’t alone in her bed and she was busy. A simple glance at Andre tells me he’s understood what I’ve left unsaid.

As I give up and begin to untuck the duvet covers, the first few notes of my ringtone startle me. I don’t even bother to look at the caller ID before answering – I know all too well who’s calling back.

“Josh!” she says loudly, trying to get her voice to soar over the blasting music in the room she’s calling from. She keeps speaking but I can’t make out a word of what she says.

“Jen? I can’t hear you! Where are you? What’s going on?”

I sit on my bed, confused. The sound of the music dwindles down, and I finally hear her sweet, husky voice more clearly.

“Good. Oh, it’s nice to have a break, my ears are starting to hurt now. I was saying, did you see that? Did you see what I did? I photobombed Sarah Jessica Parker! Like a boss!”

I frown.

“Where are you?”

“The Met Gala!” she answers with a giggle. She’s drunk. “I’m in New York! The red carpet was boring, but the party is sooooo nice! Oh, I wish you were here, Josh... I miss you.”

“I guess you’ve got your platypus face on now?” I smile, picking absent-mindedly at a thread hanging loose off the comforter.

“Nah, no one would understand.”

“You’re dull.”

“No, you are.” There’s a silence on the line. It feels good to hear her again after these last few weeks that seemed like an eternity to me. I can almost forget the pictures.

“Please, promise me you’ll check out the pics and tell me if it looks good! Wait... why were you calling exactly? It’s pretty late. Everything okay?”

“No reason. It’s just been a while.”

I bite my lip.

“Yeah, it’s true. I thought you were busy with your movie.”

“I was. You leaving for Montreal soon?”

“Yes, tomorrow, actually.”

“That’s great. You’ll love the city.”

“Thanks. Oh, I have to go. Don’t forget to check out the pics!”

“Yeah, sure. I will.” I smile.

“Talk to you later. I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” I sigh, before ending the call. I close my eyes for a moment, before lighting my phone back up to search for the pictures online.

I quickly stumble upon a photo gallery, in which she’s – unsurprisingly - heavily featured. With her black strapless gown, delicate makeup and elegant veil, she’s stunning, as usual. I browse through the gallery, looking for the picture she was so proud of. I chuckle when I finally find it. She wasn’t lying; it was a good one.

But my smile falls when I spot another picture.

Of her in the arms of a tall, dapper man dressed up in a well-fitted suit. Gazing at him with a large grin on her face and bright stars in her eyes.

The pain of seeing them together, so unexpected despite the recent news, invades my chest in an instant. I look around myself, searching for Andre, but he’s back in his own room. I’m alone. Completely alone.

I try to take deep breaths but it’s not enough. In a fit of anger, I stand up in one quick motion and, with a sharp cry, throw the phone at the other end of the room before collapsing next to the bed, sobs wracking my body incessantly.

I stay there for a while, my face buried in my crossed arms, which are resting on my knees.

“Josh?”

I look up sharply when I hear her soft voice. She’s staring at me with a sincerely worried expression, handing me my phone back.

“Why are you here? Who let you in?”

“Andre. He heard noise and found you here. You were so upset that you didn’t even see him. So he called me and asked me to try to get you out of that. Josh... what happened?”

She kneels next to me. I lock eyes with her for a moment, before accepting her open arms. I feel like I have no more tears to shed, so I simply breathe in the enticing scent of her skin, feel the soft fabric of her tank top brushing my cheek as she cradles the back of my head.

“I saw something I wasn’t ready to see,” I finally manage to say without breaking down.

I pull away to see her face. She nods slightly, a sad smile on her lips.

“Say it,” she says.

I stare at her eyes for a moment.

“There’s nothing else to say,” I whisper.

I don’t even think twice when she cups my jaw and brings her face impossibly close to mine. When her soft lips tentatively make contact with my own, I finally feel something pleasant run through my veins. Soon, she’s got her arms locked solidly around my neck as I pull her into my lap and allow her to claim my mouth more forcefully.

And when her hands start roaming my bare chest until they reach for the button of my shorts and she pulls back to silently ask me for permission, I welcome her motions.

Maybe this is what I need to move on. Because in this moment, I realize that I’ve reached the end.

My last hopes have been crushed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Jennifer’s POV**

The fact I know in advance that pictures of my dinner with Nick will be published all over the media doesn’t soften the blow when Liz – my publicist - sends me the link to the photos the next morning and asks me for an explanation.

In fact, it just increases my frustration. I’ve had time to mull it over after dropping Nick at his hotel, and I’m nothing short of furious at the thought that someone likely tipped them. And to make things worse, I’ve gotten my publicist mad because she has to make unexpected deals with several news outlets to keep them from spreading even more rumors that I absolutely don’t need right now.

I just want to live my life in peace, is it so much to ask for?

I know Nick doesn’t like the paps any more than I do, so it can’t possibly have been him who called them to wait for us to get out of the restaurant. I have a hard time believing such an accommodating staff would tip them either. But the bastards knew the secret location where I had parked my car. They knew we would come out from the backdoor. I didn’t see anybody when I got off the car when we first made it there – I’ve taken the habit of scanning my surroundings at all times to ensure my privacy, as best as I can anyway.

There was no one.

It gnaws at me for days after. But eventually, after Liz assures me that most of the rumors about Nick and me have died down, I decide to let it go. It didn’t do much damage, after all. I’ll probably never hear about these pictures again.

And there’s no way Josh could have seen them.

I would be lying if I said that the possibility he might have stumbled upon them didn’t cross my mind at any point. We haven’t actually spoken to each other for a few weeks now – ever since I got my hair cut and we had a videochat the next day. I’m not concerned by his lack of calls, as I assume he’s just very busy filming his movie. As for me, I’ve finally moved out of my parents’ house and into a rental home near Josh’s house in the Hollywood Hills. It’s so silly to me to move out now, as I’m about to go film a movie on location in another country, before working on the last couple of _Hunger Games_ films in Atlanta. I won’t even have time to spend in my new home. But for some reason, my parents feel it’s time for me to have some private space of my own.

I suspect that they’re the ones who want to have their privacy back. But still. They’re helping me pack my stuff and move it little by little every day, so I don’t complain.

At night, as I lie down on the couch and watch re-runs of _Dance Moms_ with a bag of Doritos on my belly, I let my mind drift off to memories of Josh and I doing the same thing while we were filming in Atlanta, and my heart tightens in my chest. I miss him, so terribly much.

I wonder if he thinks about me, sometimes. I often think of calling him, or just sending him a text message, but every time I grab my phone and look for his goofy face in my contacts, I remember that he’s busy, and that he’s in a different timezone than me. He probably needs all the sleep he can get.

I often don’t sleep at night. Especially after Nick’s proposition.

I don’t know why it made me so confused at first. It’s clear that I don’t want to get back with him. It should have been obvious as soon as he said the words.

My heart belongs to Josh, now. Even if he doesn’t want it. I’m not ready to give up.

So why is it so hard to stand up to Nick? Is it because of our shared past? Is it because of his pretty face? Is it because of his soft voice? Why can’t I just let him go and never look back?

It would be so much easier. Even if it means going on that road alone.

In a way, I’m grateful for these sleepless nights because they help me clear my thoughts, enough so I know that the next time I see Nick, I should be able to give him a strong answer, without faltering before him. And then, I’ll be free of him, and we’ll still keep our friendship alive. He’ll respect my choice, and let me go too.

That’s what I’m hoping for, at least.

A week or so after my infamous dinner with him, I fly to New York City to attend the Met Gala, a dull event where I have to pretend I’m a classy lady and having a good time. At least, there’ll be booze to distract me from all these fashion gurus patting each other in the back for who designed the most hideous dress of the season.

I spend most of the day bored to death, as my stylist and hairstylist take turns getting me ready for the Ball. I never particularly enjoy these days of fittings, trials, and hours spent on making me look like anything but the real me, but it’s worse when I’m by myself, without any of my friends by my side. At some point, I grab my phone and almost send a message to Josh, but I figure he must be working at the moment and now probably isn’t a good time to disturb him.

I don’t like staying there, sitting still and silent on the chair as Mark plays with my hair, while getting lost in my thoughts and fretting over nothing. And now, as I stare at Josh’s entry in my contacts, my mind wanders again to the fact that we haven’t spoken to each other in weeks, and that’s when I begin to worry.

Especially when I start thinking about his costar again. From the little he talked about her, I know she’s his type. They’ve been filming together for a few weeks now. They might even have kissed for the movie.

Maybe not just for the movie.

I sigh.

“What’s on your mind, Jen?” Mark asks, running a comb through my short, blonde hair.

“Nothing special.” I look down at the robe I’m wearing, attempting to hide my lie.

“I don’t believe you. But if you want to speak about it, I’m here,” he says.

“Thank you. But it’s nothing, I swear.”

“Ok. If you say so.” He smiles lightly, and I force myself to return it.

After, I slip on the black strapless dress I’m gonna showcase at the event. For once, it’s relatively comfortable. It keeps my boobs in check, if anything. And it’s not long enough that I would risk falling on my face like I did at the Oscars.

The more I look at it, the more I like it.

Mark attaches a veil to my hair to complete the look.

“I like this,” I say, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

“You’ll be the queen of this event,” he replies. “Come on, let’s go.”

I slip on my heels and follow him out of the room, down into the hotel lobby, where a car is waiting to pick me up. I climb into it, sit on the leather seat and lean down against its cushioned back, closing my eyes briefly.

I can’t wait for this day to be over.

I try to breathe in deeply as Liz joins me on the backseat. Public events like this always stress me out.

Actually, not always. There’s one kind of event that doesn’t stress me as much as the others: _Hunger Games_ movies premieres.

Because unlike all other events, I have Josh by my side to lean on. He has no idea how many panic attacks he’s helped soothe just by being his calm self next to me. Or how the simple gesture of wrapping his arm around my waist, resting his fingers on my hip, is enough to quiet down my nerves. Every single time.

I wish he was here with me tonight. But I know there’s no way it could be possible. I have to make a grown-up of me and face all these people alone, trying to live up to my reputation of being a charming and dorky girl, while avoiding any clumsy accident.

“Here,” Liz says. I look at her, and see the flask she’s handing me with a smirk. “You need to relax, Jen.”

“I know,” I say, taking the bottle and bringing it to my lips, swallowing a large gulp. I make a grimace as it burns down my throat, but I know I’ll feel somewhat better soon. I cough a little, before taking another sip.

“You’ll be fine,” she adds, and I nod.

“Yeah. In a few hours, it’ll be over, right?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna follow you around on the red carpet. You’ll be one of the last to arrive, so many journalists will already be inside the Museum by the time we make our way there. You won’t need to speak to so many people.”

“Great,” I say, before taking another gulp. I already enjoy the warmth slowly filling my body, and I do feel more relaxed. Maybe it won’t be that much of a chore, after all.

By the time we make our way out of the traffic and in front of the museum, I’ve downed the whole flask. I’m used to handle that amount of liquor so I know it shouldn’t cause me to trip on the carpet, but it’s still enough that I feel much happier and less stressed out than I was when I got in the car. Liz escorts me to the press line, where I pose for the photographers, scanning the crowd in search of celebrities.

That’s when I spot Sarah Jessica Parker, looking like a peacock with the large ornament she’s wearing on her head, talking to someone a little further down the line. With a chuckle, I speed up behind her, just in time to jump into the frame of the picture a photographer is taking, my arm spread out in a comic pose. The photographers all burst out laughing, and she turns around, surprised to see me there. She gives me a warm smile and hugs me.

“Hello, Jennifer!” she says, lightly patting my back. “Wanted to steal the show?”

“Oh, totally,” I reply, pretending to take her seriously. “We need to spice this up a little, these people are so stuck up sometimes. Where’s the booze?”

She laughs and shakes her head.

“In time, Jennifer, in time,” she winks, before going back to her publicist. Liz joins me.

“You do have a sense of timing,” she remarks. “That’s what everyone’s gonna talk about. How you photobombed Sarah Jessica Parker. You’re a publicist’s dream!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say. “Don’t act like you don’t want to tear my head off my neck every day.” I pose for the photographers some more, and answer a few questions, until it’s time to climb up the stairs into the building. My old fear of falling comes back instantly. I take a deep breath and focus on every step. Once I reach the top, Liz following me close, I sigh.

“I’m doing good so far, right?” I ask, to which she nods.

“Let’s go. You’re gonna meet with some Dior executives inside and then you’ll be able to make your way to the party.”

This is my first time here. I’ve attended plenty of parties so far but an afterparty at a fashion event, all by myself – I did attend a fashion show with Nick last year, but it’s not the same - is a new thing for me. I guess it probably won’t be any different – people will still drink too much, do inappropriate stuff, say cringe-worthy things – but there’s still a remnant of fear in my gutter.

Inside, I have a brief chat with Raf Simons, the main designer of Dior, and then I’m led to these big guns from the house to whom I speak a little, pretending to be interested in what they have to say and accepting the compliments on how well dressed they think I am tonight. When I’m finally allowed to wander, I spot a pyramid of champagne glasses, and I help myself to one, not even bothering with waiting for a server to hand it to me properly. I gulp it down fast, grabbing another one to go under the surprised – but amused - gazes of the two attendants guarding the pyramid. I thank them with a wink, before starting to walk the rest of the way, washing down the champagne a little slower. Once I’m done, I leave my glass on an empty platter nearby.

It did good. I’m feeling good. My head is hazy from the alcohol, and I welcome the respite from my drifting thoughts.

“Hey,” a soft, masculine voice says in my ear.

I turn around sharply, almost losing my footing. He catches me right before I fall, pulling me to him so I won’t crash on the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asks with a beaming smile.

For a second, I’m lost in time, locking eyes with him. I bob my head up and down, returning his smile, as I see in the corner of my eye the blinding light of the flashes capturing the moment on camera.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. He’s making no move to let me go, and for some reason, I feel comfortable in his arms. He’s helping me keep steady on my feet – I’m nearing the point where I’ll be too tipsy to stride with confidence.

“Accompanying a friend. You look gorgeous, Jennifer.”

“Thank you.”

I finally pull away, as he starts to scan the crowd for his “friend”. I don’t want to ask him who it is. I don’t care.

Do I?

“Well, I think she’s looking for me,” he says, his eyes looking down into mine. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

He gives a little headshake in agreement, before walking into the other room. I don’t bother following him with my eyes to see who it is.

Seeing that I’m paralyzed in my spot, Liz joins me.

“How is it going so far?”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know Nick was here tonight.”

“I thought he had told you?”

“We don’t talk anymore, Liz, you know that. Not ever since that night at the restaurant. I’ve been busy.”

“He’s there with his new girlfriend.”

For some reason, my breath catches in my throat at her words. I don’t understand why I’m so invested in knowing that he has a girlfriend. I don’t want him anymore, right?

But in my cloudy alcohol-filled mind, it’s not as clear as I would have wanted it to be.

“Who is it?” I ask, staring at the dark room where he disappeared.

“Riley.”

“Oh.”

I met her a few times last summer, when I visited Nick on the set of his movie. I remember her as a pretty wild girl, always ready to party and try new stuff.

I guess Nick is in good hands with her.

I recall the day I phoned him while I was in Kentucky with my family. I remember the feminine laugh I had heard in the background. It must have been her.

Liz flashes me a sympathetic smile.

“It’s hard to let go of your first love, huh?”

I stare at her for a moment, a thousand memories filling me with regret. She has a point. It’s hard to let go of the past.

But the future is worth so much more. And my future doesn’t lie with him.

 

* * *

 

 

When I spot Rachel – my stylist - in the crowd, I wish I had begged her earlier to plan an outfit change for the afterparty. I feel like I’ve spent most of the evening so far tugging at the fabric to make sure my boobs stay covered, and it’s making me more and more nervous.

I meet many other people over the course of the night, and I quickly push Nick and his new girlfriend at the back of my mind. My good mood comes back in no time as I finally start to enjoy myself, dancing to the music blasting in the room, the pleasant effect of the alcohol engulfing me.

Until I feel my phone buzz in my clutch.

I’m not quick enough to get it out on time, though. When I read the name on my caller ID, my heart picks up speed.

Josh, whom I haven’t talked to in days. Weeks.

Josh, that I still miss so much, I feel a pang in my chest at the mere sight of his name. Why is he calling me so late? Is there something wrong?

I rush outside of the ballroom, trying not to stumble over my feet while tapping the icons to call him back at the same time. When he picks up, the simple sound of his deep voice is enough to make me feel even warmer. I missed it so much.

I miss him so much.

Speaking to him makes me so excited, I don’t even think about the jumbled mess I say. I hardly pay attention to the actual words he says either. I only seem to be able to focus on the melody of his voice, on the smile I can guess in his tone, on the sweet hick accent that always comes through whenever he speaks.

It all ends way too soon.

Disappointed, but still feeling much lighter after talking to him for the first time in so long, I make my way back to the party to enjoy the music and drinks some more. As I’m swaying in the middle of the dance floor, I suddenly feel a foreign presence behind me.

“May I?” a dark voice whispers in my ear. When I don’t answer, he tentatively snakes an arm around my waist, barely brushing the fabric of my dress, while pressing his chest closer to my back.

“What about your girlfriend?” I turn my head towards him. Our faces are inches apart. I could look up into his eyes, but for some reason, I don’t let my gaze rise higher than his lips. I smell the odor of champagne every time he breathes out.

“Who cares about fashion, right?” he murmurs on my skin. “Aren’t we all here to have some fun?”

I don’t know why the vibration of his voice, so close to my body, makes me feel tingles right at my core. Maybe I’m just too starved for the contact of a man. Maybe he knows me too well.

Knows my weakness. Sweet talk and touches.

Instinctively, I lean my head back onto his shoulder, closing my eyes. His lips flutter to the side of my neck, as his grasp on my body becomes tighter. I reach up to touch his hair. Blond-dyed locks going through my fingers. As he presses my midsection closer to his own body, my ass grinds against his crotch, giving me a feel of his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. I sigh heavily, the light kiss of his breath on my skin as he blows air along my collarbone making me feel a current of desire. My mind goes to several places. The privacy of a shared trailer. The dining room table in a rental home in Atlanta. The sunny beaches of Hawaii. A glass shower in the middle of a backyard.

“Come with me,” he whispers in my ear, before trailing a path of kisses along the side of my neck. “I got something for you.”

That voice sounds wrong. So, so wrong.

I open my eyes, and I feel a slight disappointment when Nick’s lanky form replaces the stocky man I had pictured in my mind. I hesitate to take his hand, feeling confused.

“He broke up with you, Jen,” Nick says, a serious look on his face. “You owe him nothing, now. You should let yourself have some fun.”

I look away as I keep trying to make some sense of my mixed-up thoughts, but it’s useless. Reluctantly, I grab his opened hand and follow him to another room. There, he leads me to a blonde girl I don’t know, sitting on a couch and wearing a dress that frankly looks like a nightgown. A red-haired girl that I vaguely remember seeing before sits next to her, watching me with a curious look. Nick makes his way to them, sitting between them both and kissing the red-head on the cheek. He then turns to me, motioning at me to get closer. I shyly walk in front of them.

“Jen, you remember Riley?” he asks, smiling at her.

“Yes, of course,” I say in a shy voice. So that’s why she looked familiar. Riley awkwardly reaches up to kiss my cheeks, lingering a little too long on my face. “Your new girlfriend, right?”

He bursts out laughing.

“If you wanna call it that, yes!”

I don’t understand what’s so funny. There’s a lump in my throat. These people, with their weird stares, are making me extremely uncomfortable.

Nick grabs my hand to pull me to him. I trip and almost fall into his open arms, Riley and the other girl chuckling in response.

“Woah, easy,” he whispers as I straighten up. “Easy.”

He drops a light kiss on my cheek, one of his hands burning my thigh as it caresses it all the way up to my ass.

“Wanna have some fun with us, babe? I’ve always wanted to have a threesome... with you, it’d be incredible...”

For some reason, his words almost sober me up instantly. I jump off his lap, my gaze going from his dumbfounded eyes to Riley’s giggling form. I back off, tears filling my eyes.

“No fucking way,” I mutter, making a few steps backwards.

“Jen, come on...”

I only have time to see the blonde girl lift up her dress, flaunting the perfection of her naked body, her flat stomach and round breasts shoved into Nick’s face.

“You don’t know what you’re missing on, Jennifer!” she screams, before falling back onto the couch, in a seemingly uncontrollable fit of laughter. I turn around and run into the night as fast as I can, eager to escape the scene of the biggest humiliation I can remember.

 

* * *

 

 

**Josh’s POV**

My head is pounding like crazy.

I’ve barely opened my eyes when I close them again. I run a hand over my forehead, trying to remember when I actually lay down to sleep last night and if I’m allowed to still be in my bed right now, with the sun looking to be already set quite high in the sky. That’s when I recall that today is our day off from shooting – so no matter the time on the clock right now, I’m fine.

I take a deep breath, my hand covering my eyes. It’s only then that I hear the dull breathing sound next to me.

I don’t even need to look at her sleeping form to remember the way my night ended. Everything rushes back to my mind all at once: the picture of Jen and Nick on my phone, my crying fit, Claudia’s arms.

And then, her lips, her hands, her skin.

Getting lost in her body, even for a moment, made me forget the intense disappointment I had been consumed with after seeing Jen looking so happy in Nick’s arms. The single picture that pretty much confirmed the other paparazzi shots and articles that Andre had shown me a few weeks ago. It all aligns. It all makes sense.

Despite her words, despite her kiss, she’s made her choice.

Isn’t that what I’d wanted when I ended whatever existed between us? Set her free to choose to be with the one she really loved? Shouldn’t I have been expecting it? Shouldn’t I have made some progress since I’ve been away from her?

Instead, all I did was numb the pain with weed, drink myself into oblivion and now, bang someone else just to try and selfishly feel something good.

I turn my face towards Claudia. She’s still sleeping on her side, facing me, her dark tresses spread out over the white pillow. I stretch an arm to comb my fingers into the soft silk of her hair, staring at her face until her eyes flutter open and she takes me in with a small smile.

She deserves so much better.

“Good morning,” she says, not making a move to get closer to me. I appreciate it.

“Good morning.” My voice is hoarse. She looks sorry for me. I hate it. “Look, about yesterday...”

“Don’t worry. We will speak later.”

I nod.

“I just wanted to say... thank you, for being there. I know I’m not easy to be around these days.”

“It’s nothing, Josh. Really.”

She tentatively runs her fingers on my cheek.

“Alright.”

Her touch makes me slightly uncomfortable, so I decide to make an effort to get out of the bed. I sit on the edge for a moment, willing my head to stop spinning. I hear the rustling of the sheets as Claudia gets up behind me. I know she’s stark naked, but I don’t even so much as turn my head towards her while she puts on her clothes from last night. Instead, I just stare at the grey carpet the whole time, resting my chin on my palm.

I need to stop thinking about her, or I’ll go crazy.

“Here.”

I look up and find her standing in front of me, handing me a couple of painkiller pills with a glass of water.

“Oh, thank you,” I reply, taking and swallowing them in an instant.

“Want to have breakfast together?”

“Oh, I’m not really hungry...” I start, looking away.

“You need to eat, Josh. It will help with the headache. Come on. Get clean, get dress, and meet me down at the front of the restaurant in thirty minutes?”

I shrug.

“Yeah, okay. If only for the coffee.”

“Great,” she smiles. “See you later.”

“See you later.”

I wish I could be as enthusiast about seeing her again as she is, though. I can already sense that things are gonna get incredibly awkward and complicated, now that I’ve crossed the line. Now that I’ve turned our friendship into a friendship with benefits that clearly only profits me. Inevitably, she’ll get screwed over by the non-spoken fact she will never be enough to replace Jen in my heart.

I’m such an asshole.

 

* * *

 

 

“You want to talk about what made you so sad last night?”

She looks genuinely interested, staring at me while raising her coffee cup to her lips. We’re sitting together in a corner of the hotel’s restaurant, having a breakfast that I have to force myself to eat.

I don’t feel like reliving last night’s events, but at the same time, she deserves to know the truth, if only to understand what she’s truly getting into.

A thousand memories of Jen surge into my mind, and I look down, pressing my fingers into my eyes to make sure to hold back any tears. As I’m about to tell her the details of my discovery, we’re interrupted by a woman making her way to our table, accompanied by two young girls standing shyly next to her.

“Excuse me,” she starts, speaking English with a thick Spanish accent. “You are Peeta?”

“Yes, yes!” I answer, trying to force a smile. She doesn’t seem to realize the last thing I want to do this morning is have a chat with strangers. But I know it could make their day, so I suck it up and try my hardest to appear interested. “How are you doing?”

“We’re great!” she replies, pushing the two girls forward. “We are all such good fans of you. Would you mind taking some pictures with us?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She hands her camera to Claudia, who shares a concerned look with me. I subtly shrug my shoulders, before the younger girl sits next to me in the booth, taking a pose. I know I must look exhausted and sad, but there’s nothing I can do to hide it. Claudia hurries to take the pictures, the older girl replacing the younger one – going by their shared looks, they must be sisters - before handing the camera back to the lady with a large grin.

“Thank you so much! The girls are so happy.”

“That’s awesome,” I say. “Have a good day.”

I’m relieved when they finally go back to their table. Hopefully, no one else recognized me. For good measure, I look down and pretend to be completely absorbed by the food I’m cutting into tiny bites on my plate.

“Is it always like that?”

I look up at Claudia, frowning. She’s staring at me with an annoyed expression.

“Like what?”

“People... stopping you while you’re eating... that’s impolite.”

“I know,” I sigh. “No, it’s not always like that. Not for me. But Jen...”

I bite my lip. Her eyes get wide. It hits me that I’ve talked to her about the girl I loved, my “almost” ex-girlfriend, but I never actually told her who she was. She doesn’t need any more dots to make the connection.

“You were dating Jennifer Lawrence?” she says in a low voice.

“Shhhh...” I answer, looking around as if someone could have heard her. “Not really dating. But there was something between us,” I admit sheepishly, a thousand memories of our trysts suddenly rushing to my head.

“And there is still,” she remarks.

“No. Not on her side, anyway. She’s back with her boyfriend. That’s what happened last night. I saw a picture of them and I recognized the way she was looking at him. It was the way I had always hoped to see her looking at me.” I let out a small chuckle. “But I never saw it.”

I see something I can’t place passing on her face. Jealousy? Anger? Disappointment? Probably a mix of emotions.

“Look, Claudia... I’m messed up right now. You have to know that. I want to forget I was ever in love with her but it’s hard, since I can’t cut her completely out of my life, you know. It’s so awkward. And at the same time... the truth is that I enjoy her friendship, way too much to give up on it. So if you want to back off... now is the time. I won’t be mad at you. I’ll understand.”

“We haven’t known each other for long, but I’m already... attached to you, Josh,” she murmurs. “Don’t you worry about that. Really. I know what I’m doing.”

I don’t think she knows, no. Not really. But I won’t tell her that. She wouldn’t want to accept it now anyway.

“Okay. Well... you have to keep the secret, alright? Neither of us needs this to go public.”

“You can trust me.”

I nod, and finally take a bite out of my omelet, which is cold by now. I wash it down with coffee, as I feel Claudia’s stare still studying me. When I return her gaze, she finally smiles.

“What?”

“Their pictures are blurry.”

On reflex, I look around and spot the family who interrupted us earlier getting out of the restaurant.

“What? Claudia, why didn’t you take better pictures?”

“They deserve that for interrupting you while you eat.”

 

* * *

 

 

I want to spend the rest of the day lying on my bed, drifting between slumber and futile thoughts of her, but Andre has other plans. Instead, he invites me for a walk, not once referring to what happened last night. I’m grateful for it, because I just can’t stand to relive it once again.

We stop in a mostly deserted park, where I sit on a bench while my friend picks up a couple of drinks from the coffee shop nearby. I didn’t have the heart to face more people, so I was glad that Andre volunteered to run the errand for us both.

The afternoon sun warms me up, helping me to relax a little bit and forget all about my heartbreak, until I hear the sound of a new notification on my phone. I can already guess who the message comes from. I wish I could just ignore it, but my curiosity is too strong.

JENNIFER: I miss you. Wanna Skype again soon? Or just Facetime?

I stare at her words for a long time, the lump in my throat building with every passing minute. At some point, I just look up and stare at the trees in front of me, before shoving the phone back in my pocket. Andre then sits next to me on the bench, handing me my latte.

“Woah,” he says, taking in my distraught expression. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug.

“Nothing. She still doesn’t know what she wants, apparently. After all this time. After all that happened between us. It’s crazy.”

“I don’t get it.”

I sigh, and throw a glance his way. He’s staring at me, eyebrows furrowed, slowly lifting his cup to his lips.

“I feel like there’s so much you’re keeping from me, Josh,” he adds, blowing on the hole on top of the plastic cover, before taking a tentative sip. “It’s your choice, really. But you know I’m here to listen to you. I want to help you.”

He’s right. There’s so much I haven’t told him yet. With a sad smile, I nod, before taking a gulp of coffee.

“Remember when I tried to call her last night and she didn’t pick up? Well, I was right.”

His eyes get wide as saucers.

“What do you mean?”

“She wasn’t fucking him... but she was with him. I saw the picture.”

He shakes his head, avoiding my gaze.

“Josh... don’t you think it’s really time to move on now? Forget her for good? It’s getting obvious now that she’s made her choice...”

“Because she kissed me!” I almost yell. “She fucking kissed me, that’s why I couldn’t move on until now!”

“When?”

With a sigh, I tell him all about my day in Louisville. How angry her brother was at me. How her parents still welcomed me with open arms. How she seemed so happy to see me.

And yes, how eager to kiss me she was.

But then, the first time she sees her ex again, they go on a fucking romantic dinner together, and she’s photographed in his arms, looking at him with admiration, at a high-profile event.

And she has the guts to reach out for me, pretending nothing happened with Nick.

“I don’t understand anything. Nothing makes sense anymore, Andre. Maybe I shouldn’t have given up on her back then...”

He chuckles.

“What?”

“By the look of things, you clearly haven’t given up on her! And same goes for her.”

“But she’s with him now...”

“Yeah. You know what? I think she’s confused. Maybe she just wants to make sure she’s really over him. And when she realizes that it’s over, she’ll run back to you. Hopefully you’ll be ready for her at that time... “He bites his lip. “I’m not gonna comment on what I saw. I know you spent the night with Claudia. Just... make sure she knows what she’s getting into?”

“She knows, believe me. She knows.”

“Then it’s alright. And by the way, I don’t think you were wrong to end things with Jen when you did. No offense, but what you had wasn’t healthy. What you needed was a fresh start. Now if you figure out what didn’t work the first time around and work on it... like, maybe, communicating more? Maybe you’d have a chance to work together.”

“Thanks for the advice, bachelorette,” I smile. He shakes his head and downs more coffee.

I know he’s right in a way. Maybe Jen just needs to figure out that she doesn’t want him anymore. Cause if she doesn’t take the time to do it, and we decide to get together for good, his shadow will always loom above us and she might have regrets that will ultimately doom our relationship. And I don’t want that anymore than she does.

With a sigh, I fetch my phone out of my pocket and look for Jennifer’s message. I stare idly at the screen for a moment, before settling on an answer.

JOSH: Skype me in an hour?

Even if she’s really moving on, I can’t be mad at her. I have to remember that.

 

* * *

 

 

My heart beats obnoxiously fast while I stare at the screen of my laptop computer, waiting for her to log in. I throw a glance at the scenery outside, focusing my gaze on the buildings glowing with the late afternoon sun reflecting on them. I keep staring outside until the sound of an incoming call on Skype makes me jump.

I run my shaky fingers over the touchpad, click and wait for her image to show up. And when it does, I feel like my heart is gonna leap straight out of my chest.

She’s gorgeous, as usual, her newly-cut blonde hair framing her face with short waves. Her smile gets wider when she takes me in, prompting a large grin of my own.

“Hey!” I say. “Where are you now?”

“I just arrived in Montreal this morning. I’m starting pre-prod work later today.”

“Great.”

“What about you? How is the shoot going?”

I shrug. I’m not about to tell her I’ve been going through the motions, barely sleeping at night and getting lost in my work during the day so I could forget my feelings for her.

“We’ve had a few delays. Weather not cooperating. Me waking up with a sore neck the day we’re supposed to film with elephants...”

I look down and smile at the memory. We got in so much trouble because I couldn’t work that day, and we had to rent the animals for an extra day. At least, that time, it wasn’t my fault.

Thinking about those sleepless nights that have sometimes made me quite tired on set, resulting in my flubbing my lines more often than usual, makes me cringe. It wasn’t enough to affect my reputation as a professional, but still enough to bother me because I’ve set my own standards higher than that. I’m definitely not proud of myself, these days.

“Elephants?” she grins. “You filmed with elephants? Lucky you!”

“Ah, it was nice. You would have loved it.”

Her smile fades a little bit.

“Yeah, probably.” She lowers her voice. “I wish you were closer. I miss you so much.”

“Yeah.”

My first instinct is to believe it, so I almost tell her I miss her too. But flashes from last night’s disaster come back in my mind. And the photos... she sure didn’t look like she was missing me there, comfortably nestled between the arms of the man she dated for two whole years.

I’m dying to ask her about him. To push her to admit the truth, to be honest with me for once. But for some reason, I can’t find the courage to be straightforward. So I take the coward route instead, as usual.

“How was your night at the Gala?” I finally say with a sigh.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Boring red carpet, I made a fool of myself in interviews, almost tripped on the floor, drank too much. Music was nice, but that’s about it.” I notice she bites her lip. “I left early, anyway.”

“Oh.”

I focus on her features when she stops speaking. There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes. I don’t understand why.

“Not too long after you called, actually,” she adds, her smile getting brighter. “God, I was so happy that you called. You have no idea.”

“It was the booze,” I chuckle. She lets out a sweet laugh. I miss it so badly.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t!”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Any chance you could join us in Cannes?” she asks, her gaze getting hopeful.

I know my manager has been in talks with the production for quite some time to try and find a way to free me for a weekend so I could attend the _Catching Fire_ party at the Cannes Film Festival with the rest of my _Hunger Games_ family. Benicio is already set to attend the festival because he’s got another film premiering there, and Pathé, the main production company for _Paradise Lost_ , also has scheduled a business meeting with potential distributors sometime during the festival. It would make sense for me to attend both events, but it turned out the odds don’t seem to be in my favor.

“I don’t know yet,” I reply with a shrug. “But it’s not looking good so far. We’re too far behind schedule. But since Benicio is going, maybe there’s still a chance they’ll free me too. We’ll see.”

“I hope so.” Her voice is soft, almost melancholic. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Oh, you’d enjoy yourself just fine!” I try to laugh it off, but her face doesn’t light up.

“Maybe.”

There is an awkward pause while we stare at each other, neither of us knowing what to say for once. Somehow, seeing her after all this time still makes me feel incredibly good, even though I can’t shake off the pain of knowing her happy with someone else.

We’re forced to end the conversation when she gets called by Justine - who’s still working with her as her assistant - to leave for dinner.

When I find myself staring at a blank screen, I realize that she hasn’t said a single word about him. She still doesn’t value me enough to trust me with this.

 

* * *

 

 

I fall into a hard routine over the next week. Long shooting days, followed by nights of crazy drinking or smoking weed, and ending with Claudia in my bed more often than not. Most of the time, I’m too far gone to realize what I’m doing. It’s when I wake up with her next to me, the smell of sex and booze coming out of my pores, that I start to feel guilty and disgusting for using her so blatantly in an attempt to convince myself that I’m moving on from Jennifer. She never seems mad at me though; she looks content with the little of myself I can give her.

Jennifer sends me text messages over the week, asking how I’m doing, claiming she misses me, joking about the few French words she managed to learn.

_Tu es un idiot. C’est plate. Je m’ennuie de toi. Je t’aime._ _* (You are an idiot. It’s boring. I miss you. I love you.)_

She even sends me pictures of her touring the city, eating a poutine, or getting her blue makeup done. I fight hard against myself not to stare too much at her beautiful form, drinking in the warm smile that brightens up her whole face. She looks happy.

Of course, she is, she’s in good company.

It’s too easy to forget that detail.

How will I ever rebuild a successful friendship with her, when every time I see her name on my phone, every time I catch a glimpse of her lovely face, every time I hear the sweet sound of her voice, my heart tightens in my chest because all I ever want is to hold her in my arms, cherish her whole body with tender caresses, cover the expanse of her skin with hot kisses, whisper love promises in her ear?

And so I keep ignoring her messages. As if I could forget her so quickly.

And I keep lying to myself that I can feel that kind of affection for Claudia. As if I could move on from her so easily.

On Saturday, Andre talks me out of spending my only day off for the whole week getting high and wasted in my room, reminding me that I’m expecting a special visitor. “ _You don’t want your mom to see you like this_ ,” he said.

He was right. Although smoking weed in front of my mom has never been a big deal, I know if she found out how I’d behaved these last few days, she’d judge me. I don’t need to spend the short time she’ll be here telling her all about how I messed up things so terribly with the woman I love and that I feel responsible for driving her and my dad to divorce. And that it’s just human to need something to numb the pain and guilt.

Over the week, I’ve been recognized by many more fans, and I know I must be looking exhausted and depressed on the pictures, but I’ve reached the point where I don’t care anymore. I just do my own thing, and hope for the best.

God, I can’t wait to go back home.

I walk the length of the hotel lobby again and again while I wait for my mom to arrive from the airport. I end up leaning with my back against one of the marble columns, and digging my phone out of my pocket to check my messages.

I stopped looking at Jennifer’s texts after she sent me her French “I love you” message. It hurt too much to see those words after what I’d witnessed, and her refusal to address it with me.

Seven unread messages. With a sigh, I read them over.

JENNIFER: I’m so over these stupid movies, you have no idea.

JENNIFER: Wanna Skype tonight?

JENNIFER: Where are you?

JENNIFER: I guess you’re busy. Good night. Love you.

JENNIFER: Been a couple of days now and you still haven’t answered me. What’s going on?

JENNIFER: Liz showed me the fan pics. You look so sad. I don’t understand. Please talk to me.

JENNIFER: Did I say something wrong? Please answer. I’m worried now.

I stare at the screen for a while, my eyes getting itchy as her obvious concern hits me right in the gut. I’m about to send her a message to tell her not to worry, that I’ll be fine, that I just need some space, when I hear the familiar, soft voice of my mom calling me.

“Josh!”

I look up and see her running to me, arms wide open. I lean down and hug her tightly, a forced smile on my face.

“Hi, mom. Had a good flight?”

“Yeah, of course. But I’m starving now! Let’s go eat.”

She looks around the lobby until she spots the restaurant. I follow her there without another word, putting the phone back in my pocket. I’m glad I managed to look somewhat normal. Carefree. Happy.

I don’t know why I expect my mom, the person who knows me the best in the world, to miss the fact that it’s all just one big façade.

After we’re seated and we have ordered our food, she begins studying me, her eyes looking like she’s trying hard to figure out something. I return her gaze nervously, taking a large gulp of water to hide my unease. She finally shakes her head slightly, pursing her lips in disapprobation.

“Why don’t you talk to me, Josh?” she says. “Tell me what’s wrong. You can trust me. You always have.”

“I know.”

She smiles a little.

“You know, it’s hard for me to see you grow up. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. So proud. And I love seeing how mature you are. But as you grow up, I feel like we’re drifting apart. There’s nothing wrong with that, except that something tells me you need to talk, right now.”

I look down and shrug my shoulders, focusing my gaze on the pattern lining the white tablecloth.

“Maybe I’m not the best person for that,” she adds. “But if I could help in any way...”

As her voice trails off, I finally find the courage to look up. There’s a lump in my throat, and tears pooling at the corner of my eyes. I know I can’t hide it from her anymore. I take a deep breath and decide to be honest.

“I broke up with Jennifer. Back when we came back from Hawaii. I was such an asshole...”

“Josh...”

“Okay. I knew she wasn’t over Nick. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought...”

My heart tightens in my chest when I realize what I’m about to say.

“I think I thought she would fight more for me,” I let out with a sigh. “Ridiculous, I know. I guess she did, for a time. But it’s over, for good now.”

“You’re gonna have to stop talking in riddles, Josh, cause I don’t get it.”

I fiddle with my knife, avoiding my mother’s stare as I try to find the right words to express my thoughts. The more I think about it, the more ashamed I feel.

“The day after your birthday, I visited her in Louisville. We had a... nice conversation.”

I quickly decide to leave out the kiss.

“And I thought... I naively thought we would start addressing our issues, and fix the problem so we could be with each other again and make it work.”

“And what changed?” she asks when my silence stretches out.

“She ran back to Nick, mom,” I say in a sad voice, running my fingers over my eyelids in an attempt to keep the tears from falling.

“Oh...” she whispers, covering my free hand with hers. “I’m so sorry, Josh.”

“You know what hurts the most?” I look up at her. “She’s still lying to my face. She’s been telling me ever since that day I left her that she still loves me. Yet, she turns around and gets back with him...”

She frowns, and takes her hand away from mine. I wipe my hands on my jeans.

“What?” I ask.

“Did she actually tell you that she was back with him?”

“No, of course not,” I chuckle darkly. “She’s probably thinking I’ll get hurt or some shit. But I’d rather her be honest with me than to keep this nonsense going.”

Be honest. Suddenly, her words from our meeting at her parents’ house in Kentucky replay in my mind. “ _I want us to be honest with each other._ ” But then, why? Why hasn’t she told me about her and Nick?

“Then how do you know?”

“Pictures. Articles. It’s obvious, mom.”

“You know better than to trust this shit with your eyes closed!” she exclaims, a little too loud, before lowering her tone. “From what you’re telling me, maybe you’re jumping to conclusions a little too fast. If you still love her, and you think there’s a chance she might still love you too... you should fight for it.”

I can’t help but notice the hint of sorrow in her eyes. Is she thinking about her and my dad? Does she regret not fighting for them more?

“But what if she loves him?”

“You should definitely try to find out before assuming things.”

I’m relieved the conversation is cut short by the waiter bringing us our plates. I thank him and stare at my food for a second, lost in my thoughts, before taking my silverware and cutting a piece of my steak. My mom doesn’t speak either for a long while. I’m glad for the reprieve. She’s got a point. Appearances can be deceiving. And Jen is contradicting herself all the time.

Maybe I was wrong in assuming she had moved on from me. But then...

Claudia. At the thought of her, I feel a shiver run through my spine. I recall the way she plunged her gaze into mine last night while I fucked her, the smile that told me she was ready to accept me with my issues. Her presence has been a sort of balm for my wounds, a rock to lean onto. I’m quickly growing attached to her steady presence, despite my deeply-rooted feelings for Jennifer.

What a mess I’ve stuck myself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the French words Jen learns are actually slang expressions commonly used in Quebec. This is why the English translation I provided doesn't always fit with the proper French definition - I gave you the meaning of those sentences in that slang variation Jen could possibly learn from a French speaker native of the area.


End file.
